


Down in Mexico

by AirStank



Series: Motherfucker [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Courier is Lone Wanderer | Lone Wanderer is Courier, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Size Kink, authority kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 67,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6947755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirStank/pseuds/AirStank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Minutemen recruit a real Motherfucker.</p><p>(Sequel to Motherfucker)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. General's Back

**Author's Note:**

> This is the requested sequel to the story Motherfucker. It's still ongoing at the Falloutkinkmeme, and I'm pretty far into the story over there. :) Anyway, here we gooooo....

“Attention, attention: General’s on deck!” 

Nora sighs irritably, pausing abruptly in her tracks and letting her head hang momentarily. She can hear the announcement over the loudspeaker all the way from the old hole-ridden diner that had been unceremoniously dubbed the zone for artillery strike practice. A spot she _thought_ would conceal her approach from lookouts and thusly prevent the obnoxious and frankly extremely unnecessary announcement of her arrival to The Castle. 

She supposed it was a good thing that The Castle watch was skilled enough to pick her out despite her best efforts at stealth, which were usually more than adequate. Nora squints and shields her eyes from the high sun, eyes scanning the walls in the distance. She can spot the watch gathering to lean over the railings she had spent weeks building, pointing at her excitedly while they wave and whoop loudly. Seeing that some have binoculars and scopes, she smiles half-heartedly and gives a hard, professional wave. They eat it up—she can hear a small roar of excitement from the witnesses of their General’s greeting. 

“Come on.” Nora clicks her tongue at Dogmeat and almost immediately hears a low bark at her side. She smiles warmly down at her partner, pulling affectionately at his large ear before taking a deep breath and turning back to The Castle. 

She can admit that it had been quite a while since she had checked in on her main base—maybe two months, if she counts when she first set out to take Libertalia solo. That realization makes her cringe and pinch the bridge of her nose as a wave of shame rushes through her—that amount of time is blaringly irresponsible for a General. But truly, if she’s really being honest, most of her embarrassment originates from what she _did_ that day at Libertalia. She had banished that day from her mind up until this point, where she is forcing herself to return in order to update her officers on her latest escapades across the Commonwealth—included, but not limited to, taking Libertalia and eliminating the deserters. 

Nora hefts her pack into a new position on her shoulders as she draws closer to the front gates that she had built with Preston almost a year ago. She watches as those gates swing open in welcome, two Minutemen—er, Bernie and Amelia—beam at her and manage to snap her a respectful salute as they hold the gates open for her.

“General.” They greet politely as she mumbles her own greeting noncommittally.  
Nora and Dogmeat make a slow pace into the bustling outer courtyard of The Castle. Settlers and Minutemen stop their tasks without hesitation to drown her with greetings and handshakes and salutes. It’s a lot to process with an empty stomach and less than five hours sleep in the past two days. She’d had a rough trip through the city and Dogmeat had been a bit more restless than usual, chasing shadows and causing Nora to stumble over his tail more than once when he clung too close to her. That’s what she gets for not taking him out regularly enough; he gets antsy in Sanctuary without her—Marcy Long makes sure to let Nora know at every opportunity. 

“Hey, General!” Nora halts in her observation of a newly upgraded turret near the barracks and turns her attention over her shoulder. 

“Prest—ahem, Colonel Garvey.” She catches herself, still not accustomed to using his official title. She wouldn’t bother if not for the sparkle in Preston’s eye when she addressed him as such. His joy made it worth it in the end, so she played the part. Even now she could see the swell of pride in his chest as he jogged up to her side to give her an affectionate pat on the back. Preston, despite their strong bond, liked to remain formal in front of the rest of the Minutemen. “Long time no see.”

He clears his throat pointedly but— _bless him_ —doesn’t comment on her prolonged absence. “Yeah, it sure has, General.”

Preston falls into step beside Nora as she heads towards the armory, glancing back at Dogmeat out of habit to check on him. With her look over her shoulder Nora spots Ronnie Shaw across the courtyard, pointing hard at a stick straight line of Minutemen. Nora pauses as she observes what looks like a severe dressing down of a squad. She doesn’t recognize any of them— _they must be new_ , she thinks. Then again, her eyes aren’t so great any more when it comes to seeing details at a distance, so squinting doesn’t do much to aid her. 

“What is it?” Preston is beside her, his shoulder nearly touching hers with his close proximity. 

“Are those new recruits?” Nora eyes a tall man at the end of the lineup, narrowing her gaze at the way he seems to fidget despite the rest of his crew standing like statues. 

“Hm.” Preston squints as well as he follows her stare, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Oh! No, they’re a relatively new squad but they’ve all been here for over a month.” 

Nora hums in response, her concentration on the squad broken when Dogmeat nudges her thigh with his wet nose. _Right. Armory._

“Why do you ask?” Preston probes, still remaining close enough to brush shoulders as they escape the cruel July sun and duck into the cool, wet air of the armory. 

“Don’t recognize them.” Nora shrugs, hefting her bag up onto the center table to begin unloading the surplus ammo she brought. Preston doesn’t miss a beat, snatching up the armory inventory log and settling beside her at the table to scribble down new additions quickly. “Of course, I haven’t _been_ here, so I’m guessing I’ve missed a lot.” 

Preston is quiet for a moment, silently mouthing numbers as he mentally adds some amounts up, before smiling sympathetically at Nora. “I— _we_ —all know you were away for a good reason, General. We got your messages from the provisioners from the other settlements. Seems to me like you’ve gotten a lot done.”

“Good, I was going to ask about the efficiency of caravan messaging.” She sighs, testing the rusted trigger of an old laser pistol before turning around to lean her tailbone against the table and run her hands over her face. “Yeah, well I suppose I’ve got quite a bit to tell you. Speaking of—you got anything to tell me before I get bombarded by my _officers_?”

Preston leans his weight on the hands he rests on the table top, his expression turning contemplative as she watches the information sort itself into order behind his charming eyes. She missed him, she realizes abruptly—his soft, reassuring presence. As her second-in-command Preston had gotten accustomed to not seeing Nora for long periods of time, having chosen to stay behind and split his time between attending to The Castle and Sanctuary. Nora couldn’t fathom why the Minutemen didn’t respect Preston more than their General, seeing as he was actually around to give the orders and instruct the greenhorns. He deserves the unfailing loyalty that she receives from the Minutemen above anyone else. These days she feels more like a grand myth to these people than anything else.

“Well, in the past two months we’ve had twenty new recruits, only five are here at The Castle. The rest have either taken up escorting provisioners or joining up with settlements for protection.” He begins with a sigh, removing his hat momentarily to rub at his scalp. “Ronnie helped with their training as usual, but Captains Meyer, Osborn, Bell and… um—,” He squeezes his eyes shut in an effort to remember. “… _Patton_ were assigned to the new squads.”

“Good stuff.” Nora nods, waving her hand dismissively to indicate that the minor details were of no concern for now. She shamelessly uses Preston as her spy to let her know of any dire situations ahead of time to lessen the blows from questioning or despairing officers. “Now, on to the _important_ stuff… How are you, Preston?”

Preston straightens up and beams almost shyly at her, his bright smile loosening the tension in her muscles enough for her to grin sincerely back. “I’m doing good, General—Nora. I’m real happy to have you back, honestly.”

“Glad to be back, I missed my little army.” Nora sighs, pinching a cigarette between her lips while she pats around her blue General’s coat for her lighter. Preston is quick to oblige when he sees her search is in vain. She takes a deep breath of the acrid smoke, fluffing up her bangs before pushing off from the table and towards the exit. “I have to let Ronnie know that we made some changes to the inventory, and then I need a bath. Will you keep the busy bodies off my back while I get some R&R?”

“Anything for you, General.” He chuckles, close on her heel as they make their way through the bustling courtyard to where Ronnie is still at it with the poor squad. Nora smirks, can practically see the poor bastards wilting from the heat of the sun as much as Ronnie’s barbed tongue. “You know, when we got the message that you were returning the whole place threw a party.”

“Huh.” Nora blinks, looking over at Preston as he smiles and holds his palms up in something halfway between a shrug and surrender. “You’d think they would have the courtesy to save the party for when I got here. I could use a party.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they do, General.” Preston laughs, nodding politely to the squad of Minutemen as he and Nora approach them. “I know that Cookie has been concocting _something_ since six this morning.”

Upon seeing Nora the squad snaps to attention, letting out a strong bark of ‘General!’ She blinks at this, still not used to it, and gives them a mild smile before turning her attention to Ronnie Shaw. 

“Well _hey there_ , General.” Ronnie drawls, spitting tobacco juice on the ground a respectful distance away from Nora’s boots. “Thought the ‘Wealth finally swallowed you up. I lit a candle for you ‘n everything.”

Nora smiles primly, looking Ronnie up and down before taking a draw on her cigarette and tapping off the ashes. “It was the other way around, actually.”

“So I heard!” Ronnie grins, fisting her hands on her hips. “Rumor is that the dreaded General of the Minutemen, standing at 7 feet tall and sporting a mug uglier than the meanest Super Mutant, took on the dirty deserters at good ol’ Libertalia—all by her lonesome.”

A rumble of suppressed snickers from the line of Minutemen sounds at Nora’s side, along with the clearing of Preston’s throat. _Damn it, Ronnie_.

“Well, at least _some_ of that is true.” Nora chuckles. “Gee, I wonder who started that rumor, anyway.”

“No clue, General.” Ronnie hisses faux-conspiratorially. “Somebody terribly jealous, no doubt.”

“Sure.” Nora mumbles around her cigarette, glancing back at Preston with a smirk before sighing out a cloud of smoke. “Major Shaw, the Colonel and I made some changes to the armory’s inventory. You’ll need to check that.”

“Absolutely, ma’am, I’ll review it immediately.” Ronnie, for as razor sharp as her tongue is, snaps back into a professional dynamic like a natural. She straightens up and dials back on her chew, nodding briefly. “Good haul, General?”

“Mm.” Nora nods. “Most of it is arriving with the next provisioner incoming from County Crossing. I cleaned a path through the city and rendezvoused with them on their way out of Goodneighbor. They should be here within the next few days.”

“Excellent as always, General.” Ronnie smiles proudly at Nora, looking at her as she often does—like a grandparent at a star grandchild. Nora doesn’t know when _that_ relationship developed, but she doesn’t question it—or mention it. “I’m glad you’re here, actually. I was just reviewing a mission report with Captain Osborn’s squad.”

“And where is Captain Osborn?” Preston interjects, standing over Nora’s shoulder. The close—and frankly very familiar—proximity he has to the General is obviously noted by Ronnie, but fortunately she remains quiet.

“She’s in the infirmary.” Ronnie sighs, glancing stonily over at the squad before focusing back on the General and Preston. “Mission went south.”

“How so?” Nora asks with a hard scowl on her face and those surrounding her straighten up a touch at the unwavering authority of her voice— _the General’s back, alright_. 

“According to this bunch of dolts, Captain Osborn’s decision to travel through an abandoned metro to avoid a _small_ band of raiders—and subsequently bein’ attacked by a dozen or so zombies as a result of that _tactical choice_ —is somehow _their_ fault.” Ronnie spits out, though she isn’t all venom—Nora can hear the faint touch of grudging respect in her tone from the obvious loyalty this squad has to their leader. “Though the way I see it, one of these kids might as well spit out the god damn truth of it. Mission’s compromised anyway.”

“Maybe that _is_ the truth of it.” Preston offers in a soft tone, and Nora looks up at him for a moment as Ronnie carries on. 

“Well sure, some of it I’d bet.” Ronnie spits her chew again, a little closer to the boots of the recruits. “But taking the fall for their ill-prepared superior ain’t helpin’ the strength of the Minutemen. We ought to weed out the sour roots.” Out of the corner of her eye Nora can see the way that the squad seems to shift uncomfortably from the harsh words Ronnie says concerning their captain. 

“How was Captain Osborn to know what she’d find down in that metro?” Preston asks gently, always a stark contrast to Ronnie’s blunt—sometimes cruel—nature. 

“Sure, Colonel, but ain’t that just the damn point?” Ronnie holds her palms out irritably and cocks a hip. “Mission parameters were clear: scout the area for potential expansion—ain’t no settlement grounds to be found down in the metro. Ain’t no ground to plant tatos, no water—,”

“Sounds to me like we don’t have the full story.” Nora speaks up finally, drawing all eyes on her. “Ronnie’s right—there shouldn’t be any reason to retreat into the metro excluding something more extraordinary than a handful of raiders.”

“Scouting doesn’t mean seeking battles, General.” Preston says quietly, as if he and Nora are having a private conversation. “Maybe the Captain felt she had to reevaluate and saw the metro as cover.”

“Sure, sure—all _riveting_ points.” Ronnie waves her hands around dismissively. “And with that, ladies and gents, we are back to square one: these shitheads won’t fess up.”

“Uh— _ahem_! It was all my fault, actually, Major Shaw.” 

Nora’s brow furrows at the sound of the man’s voice as she takes one last draw on her cigarette, turning her back to the recruits to look out thoughtfully to the distant ocean horizon that is visible through the remaining damage to The Castle walls. She flicks her cigarette into the dirt and makes short work of getting a new one between her lips.

“Valdez… well _shit_ , why am I not surprised to hear _you_ open your god damn mouth?” Ronnie drawls loudly, weary amusement woven in her words. Preston lights Nora’s cigarette but his eyes are on what’s happening behind her. “Jesus, kid. What are you—a bad luck charm? Or are your ears just overflowing with shit?”

Nora sighs and turns on her heel to face the situation, her eyes zeroing in on Ronnie and—. 

_Uh_. 

A feeling like something akin to a bucket of ice pouring over her head overwhelms Nora as she stares wide eyed at the man at the end of the line—the tall, fidgety one she noticed earlier—and feels her skin begin to crawl like a thousand ants overtaking her. 

_**Him**_. _No **fucking** way_. 

The tall man realizes that Nora has turned around and that she has finally noticed him. His gleaming brown eyes stare over Ronnie’s head and straight into Nora’s as a wicked—and slightly insubordinate—grin spreads across his face. “Honestly, Major? Probably both.”

Quick like a crack of lightning images of that day at Libertalia flash through her mind. Her fists clench until they ache when she feels her ears heat up. 

Ronnie frowns deeply when she notices that the recruit’s attention is drawn elsewhere. She follows his—Valdez, Nora supposes his name is —gaze until it lands on the General. “What, haven’t you ever seen a woman before, you turd? _Focus_ , man!”

“ _I_ suggested to Captain Osborn that we scout out the metro, Major.” Valdez says, taking his time in tearing his eyes from Nora’s stricken expression to stare into the distance—wisely avoiding Major Shaw’s gaze. “I… know the area well and thought I knew of some scrap that the General might be interested in. I, uh, didn’t know that ferals were there.” From the disconcerted sidelong glances from his squad, Nora has the sneaking suspicion that this _Valdez_ isn’t telling the truth. You’d almost never tell from him alone, however—he seems to lie like he was born doing it. 

His grin never fully leaves his face, if the slight curve to the corner of his lips is any bit telling. Ronnie is red in the face from frustration when Nora finally regains the ability to move. She steps around Preston and stands beside Ronnie directly in front of Valdez, both women looking up to observe the recruit. 

“Do you think it’s funny to risk the lives of your squad?” Nora asks evenly, her General’s tone firmly in place. She watches a heavy swallow work his throat at the sound of her voice.

“No, ma’am.” He replies, surprisingly firm with honesty despite the _slight_ inflection upon her title. Nora isn’t ignorant to what _that_ implies. “Just wanted to help.”

“Is scrap more important than Captain Osborn’s health?”

“No, ma’am.” Valdez is quiet for a moment, setting his jaw. “Captain Osborn is—…she’s a good leader.” 

Nora squints up at him as she rolls his accent around in her brain, the raspy, sleazy timbre his voice possesses making an itchy heat spread along her back. 

“I don’t think this counts as insubordination, General… Seein’ as Captain Osborn okayed the suggestion from Valdez.” Ronnie mumbles almost under her breath, though her eyes remain firmly planted on Valdez’s face. “However—,”

“I’ll deal with him.” Nora interrupts Ronnie, and feels heat roiling in her lower abdomen at the sight of goosebumps rising along Valdez’s skin. 

Ronnie whistles low, a grin finally splitting through the dark rain cloud dominating her expression. “Oh _boy_ , if there was ever a slippery little worm in need of a dressing down, it’d be the ever-charismatic Mr. Valdez, here. And shit, General, I think you’re just the woman for the job.”

Valdez bites his lip and grimaces from the effort to keep from laughing, his hands flexing into fists momentarily as his head tips back and forth in a stretch. Ronnie manages to miss _that_ little show, thankfully.

“General,” Preston speaks up from behind Nora. “I don’t think you’ve been introduced to Captain Osborn’s squad yet.”

Valdez’s eyes flicker down gleefully to Nora’s for a split second, a swallow working in his throat as he begins to rock ever so slightly on his toes—antsy and burning with delight. 

“Uh—no.” Nora grumbles irritably, feeling Preston’s eyes on her back. 

“On the far end is Beth Turner from The Slog, medic. Next is Kyle Sims, tech. Then Harry Gould, a skilled marksman from the Capital Wasteland. Carrie Higgins is in the infirmary with Captain Osborn. And lastly, Ramon—excuse me, _Ray_ Valdez, all the way from Baja, close combat.” Preston steps forward to stand beside Nora, hands clasped behind his back.

Ronnie narrows her eyes at the latter, the kind of twinkle in her gaze that usually precedes a brutal takedown or a dirty joke. “You know, _Ramon_ , I’ve always wondered what they feed you tribals down in Baja, to make a beefcake like you.”

A few suppressed snickers sound down the line of Minutemen and the ghoul—Turner— leans forward to waggle what’s left of her eyebrows at Valdez.

“I only eat deathclaws, Major Shaw.” Valdez grunts with a smug look, reaching a hand up to wipe at the sweat shining on his forehead. “Hope that helps you sleep at night.” 

Ronnie snorts, spitting tobacco juice into the dirt before fisting her hands on her hips and leaning back to look Valdez up and down. 

“Ah! That reminds me—where’s your swatter, soldier? You seem to be empty handed.” Ronnie continues to tease, though she’s certainly met her match with Ramon Valdez—he just eats it up, seeming to love the berating as much as the next man might shrink underneath it. 

“I broke it on a zombie’s head, Major.” He shrugs, glancing at Nora’s expression—blank and unyielding to his charm—before coughing into his fist for comedic effect. “Oh, uh, _no offense_ , Beth.” He adds, a boyish grin on his face.

“Bite me, _beefcake_.” Turner pipes up with a bright, caustic smile on her face. 

“Aw, well ain’t that a damn shame! And here I thought with all those muscles you’d be able to actually _hold on_ to your bat this time.” Ronnie fixes Valdez with a razor sharp smirk, drawing out some hearty laughs from the squad at his expense. 

Nora has found herself mostly unable to take her stare away from… Ray. Adding a name to the face feels foreign and misplaced and she wonders briefly if it’s his real name. Not that it matters—it doesn’t. He holds no special privilege in her thoughts. Nora truly _does_ intend to straighten out Ramon Valdez later, despite what he _might_ be hoping for. Out there, at Libertalia, she slipped—nothing more. _Here_ , she is The General of The Minutemen, and therefore unattainable. She’ll make that crystal fucking clear. 

“I have things to do.” Nora gripes, feeling exceptionally grumpy very suddenly as focus turns raptly to her. _Geez_. What stories of the General are spun in her absence for these poor people to look up to her so? “Barring invasion—alien or otherwise—I am not to be disturbed.” She turns to the squad. “You are all dismissed until further notice. Get some rest. Clean up, you’re all filthy.”

They disperse obediently but stay grouped together in obvious amity, most of the squad taking turns in slapping Valdez good-naturedly on the back—or, in Turner’s case, fixing him with a solid punch to the shoulder. He takes it all in stride with the sort of boisterous laughter that stirs smiles in all that hear it. Nora watches them, unable to avoid the way Ray—no, _Valdez_ —looks over his shoulder at her, raising two fingers to his forehead in a quasi-salute that radiates the kind of cheeky familiarity that makes her teeth grind. 

“Well, Christ, that whole cluster-fuck shaved a couple years off my life.” Ronnie sighs, raising her hat to rub at her sweaty scalp. “I’ll head over to the armory, sort everythin’ out.” She squints through the sun at Nora. “You better get some rest, General. You look dead on your feet.”

“Just about.” Nora rasps, clearing her throat as Ronnie salutes and strides stuffily across the courtyard, leaving Preston and Nora standing in the heat. “I… could’ve handled that better.”

“With all due respect, General, all you need to think about right now is cleaning up and getting some sleep.” Preston lays a large hand on her shoulder and gives her a friendly squeeze before sliding his hand down until it presses into her lower back. He guides her towards the Castle wall until they are in the mercifully cool shade of ancient rock hallways.

Preston guides her until they are standing outside of her personal quarters. Nora exhales in impatience as she sorts around through her pack for her keychain, frowning and cursing in her search for the key to her room as Preston gives a request to a passing Minuteman to have some hot water brought to the General. After another minute of no luck Preston leans down to gently take the keys from Nora’s fumbling fingers, flicking through the options quickly before shoving a rusted key into the door. 

Nora falls back onto her ass from where she was crouching next to her opened backpack as the double doors swing open to reveal her room, her eyes honing in on the clean bed in the far side of the room. “Well now, what would I ever do without you, Preston?”

She grunts in strain as he helps her to her feet, catching the way he shakes his head in quiet amusement. “Pass out snoring in the hallway?”

“Oh absolutely.” She nudges him with her elbow as three Minutemen carrying three steaming buckets of water move past her. “Jeepers, that was fast, huh?”

“Left over water from the kitchens, General.” One of them answers. “For tonight!”

“Ah.” Nora winces, nodding in thanks at the three men as they retreat from her room to return to their duties. “Right. Party?”

“Sounds like it, General.” Preston chuckles at the mighty yawn Nora lets out. “Think you can wake up in time for your own party?”

“Hey, the party doesn’t _start_ till I roll in.” Nora winks at him, enjoying the way the corners of his eyes crinkle with his grin.


	2. Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, the next one will be up soon. :)

Nora shocks herself awake with the volume of her snoring, sitting up ramrod straight in bed and peering around the room in a moment of confusion. Though the stone walls of her quarters are solid enough to filter out most sound, she can still catch the faint distant hooting and hollering of what must be her ‘welcome home’ party. She can hear music most of all, vigorous, playful fiddling and what sounded like a jury rigged banjo. _How the fuck does one make a banjo these days_? 

She winces, rubbing her bleary eyes and smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth at the awful taste in her mouth. Passing out with wet hair in bed after drinking half a bottle of wine in the bathtub probably wasn’t as dignified as she initially thought. It did well to lull her into a heavy, dead weighted sleep, at least. She rolls out of bed and onto her hands and knees on top of her prized Persian rug, taking a moment to gather her thoughts: _My party. I’m late. Time to get ready_. 

It doesn’t take much to get ready these days, a quick glance in the mirror shows a fresh face from her recent wash. With a few swipes she lines her eyes with her usual black sludge—it probably used to be kohl eyeliner, but now she has to heat it up with a match just to get it to soften up enough to use. She fluffs up her hair, shrugs into her General’s coat—sans the black combat armor beneath it—and grumbles as she bends over to lace up her boots. Non-stop crusading has left her body tight and sore with fatigue and has left her mind reeling and impatient. She could definitely go for getting shitfaced to erase the events of the past two months, but she could _also_ definitely go without having to interact with fellow humans. 

As she straightens up to adjust her coat, she has a brief thought as to where Dogmeat may have wandered off to. He is usually mild mannered enough to stay out of trouble without her. Nora finds herself craving his company, along with a steak or two for them to share—and some _beer_ , god damn it. 

Just as Nora is about to lock up her quarters, she has a spark of a memory from earlier that day—seven hours ago, if her Pipboy was correct. Ray. _Valdez_. She felt an unpleasantly anxious lurch in her gut at the idea that a former raider resides amongst her ranks. Especially one that has very intimate dirt on the General. Sure, she gave him the proposition to enlist, but that moment had been born out of something pesky and _briefly_ sentimental. With a growl she forces the door closed, leaning her forehead against the cracked wood before pushing off and turning on her heel towards the sound of music. 

_Not sentimental. That’s a stupid word_. No matter what, she’d have to talk to him and soon; there’s no telling what his big mouth has already spilled about her. She can’t lose the respect of her men and women. No more loss. _Please_. 

Nora’s eyes widen as she emerges out into the courtyard, taking in the scene before her: strings of light bulbs crisscrossing from wall to wall like big, bulbous fairy lights, cooking fires scattered throughout the yard casting a flickering orange glow on all those gathered around, the sheer amount of Minutemen and settlers intermingling and laughing and even singing, and—even more bewildering—the small group of folks who have started dancing. _Well, shit_. 

The sudden sound of loud, screeching feedback over the loudspeaker sends needles along her neck and causes most of the partygoers to wince and boo loudly. Nora’s eyes cut over to where a swaying recruit wrangles the broadcast microphone in his grip before holding it to his lips and pointing a finger at Nora. 

“General’s on deck!” Echoes throughout the Castle and for, shit, _miles_ around probably. _God damn it_. 

“ _Jesus Christ_.” Nora hisses under her breath as a collective roar of excitement erupts around the Castle.

She attempts to smile but somehow it comes off as more of a grimace. Settling for her go-to halfhearted wave, Nora tips her chin up high and stalks a bit irritably through the small crowds of people huddling together. Their breaths puff out white in the harsh cold of the night as they return back to their conversations, gesticulating wildly and laughing and teasing and gasping in delight over stories told. Nora thinks back to a time when _she_ used to be the star of every party, when she’d tip her head back and laugh and _laugh_ and _drink_ and _**drink**_. Nate was her partner in every sense of the word, could keep up with her like no other man ever could, and together they could—… 

Nora blinks rapidly from the way her eyes begin to sting and swim with unwelcome tears. She breathes in deeply, attempting to smother the burning ache that still manages to linger in her chest. _Not here, please. Suck it up for just a bit longer_ …

“Thought you’d never show, General.” Nora turns on her heel, looking over the tall silhouette standing in front of a nearby cooking fire. Her stomach lurches in shock and she has to squint to make out who it is, eyes practically blinded from the heat of the fire. 

“Oh.” She sighs in relief as the man steps closer and into her line of sight. “Preston, hey.”

“Who’d you think I was?” He smiles, taking a small draw from the Gwinnett he holds loosely in his grip. _Seems like he’s buzzed_ … Nora feels a smirk tugging at her face as she takes in his bright eyes and a smile that’s a little toothier than usual. 

“Ah, I don’t know. Forget it.” She shakes her head before eyeing his drink. “I’m looking for beer and then once I have that I’m looking for Dogmeat.”

“Well General, you’ll be happy to know that we’ve borrowed Buddy from the Hotel Rexford. So, no short supply of beer.” He nods in the direction of a line of Minutemen standing in front of Drinkin’ Buddy, who seems to be telling jokes with every beer it hands out, if the cackling Minutemen are anything to go by. Nora follows Preston as he makes his way over to the modified protectron. “Though I kind of feel sorry for the thing, he’s been working over time tonight.”

“Yeah I bet.” Nora mumbles, watching two Minutemen leaning against each other and singing _Rocket 69_ mournfully, pausing periodically to nurse their beers and stare up at the moon. “Geez is it even 8 o’clock yet?”

“Nope.” He chuckles, walking backwards and pointing at her with the neck of his bottle. “Wait there, General. I’ll get you a few.”

She watches Preston jog to the front of the line, shaking the hand of the Minuteman who sacrifices their place in line for the second-in-command. Even from here Nora can hear Buddy’s next joke. _Why was the terminal tired when he got home? Because he had a hard drive_. 

“Here you go.” Preston grins at Nora’s delight upon being handed three icy bottles of beer. She quickly stuffs two into the front pockets of her coat, thankful that Preston had the forethought to screw the lid off of the third bottle before handing it to her. She takes a drink, her fingers beginning to turn numb from the cold slush still lingering on the glass, and feels her eyes roll back into her head as the carbonation burns down her throat. 

“Oh. _Oh_.” She sighs, drawing out a pleasant laugh from Preston. “Thanks for this.” She takes another gulp, licking at an escaped drop that lingers on her bottom lip. “How’s your night so far?”

“Well needed.” He replies, tucking his free hand into his coat for warmth before tipping his newly opened beer to his mouth. Nora raises an eyebrow. “I just mean… Well—…you know Curie’s here, right?”

She gasps and slaps his chest playfully. “Oh, _is she_ now?”

“Yes.” Preston breathes out a delighted laugh at Nora’s enthusiasm. “She came in with Buddy from Goodneighbor a few hours ago, said she had been visiting Hancock for… well she needed some tissue samples from a ghoul, I guess? Anyway. Yes. She’s here.”

“And?” She waits patiently, watching as Preston shrugs and ducks his head to hide his shy smile. “Fine. Do you want me to play matchmaker?”

Preston’s head snaps up and fixes Nora with wide, pleading eyes. “Uh, no, please, General I really don’t—,”

“Honey, I’m _kidding_.” She purrs, pinching his shoulder affectionately before leaning up on her tip toes to scan the crowds for Curie’s lovely face. “Where _is_ our little French macaroon?”

“Well, actually, she’s waiting for me to return.” Nora cranes her head dramatically back to face Preston, the action garish enough to make him roll his eyes good-humoredly. “I only came looking for you when that recruit made the announcement over the loudspeaker.”

“Oh my goody god, Preston Garvey.” Preston laughs as Nora slaps his bicep in outrage. “You _ditched_ the beautiful French woman to fetch me a beer?” He mashes his lips together to hide his smile. “You are an angel, dear one. Now please, before I have a stroke, please go make good on all this romantic tension between you two.”

“Aye, aye ma’am.” He beams, reaching to take her hand to give it a warm squeeze before he nearly sprints past her and up towards the stairs leading to the top of the wall. From there the view of the moon over the ocean is breathtaking on a clear night like this. _Wise choice, Preston_. 

Taking a long draw on her beer, Nora takes a deep breath and looks around at all the gatherings of friends, trying to sort through the faces and place names to them. She spots Ronnie, sitting beside Captain Osborn at a table of officers playing what looks like poker. Nora’s eyes follow along the bandages that incase Osborn’s arm in a sling and the stitches that stretch down her cheek and dangerously close to her ear. She looks well enough though, maybe even a little doped up. Nora feels a streak of envy at the latter prospect. What she wouldn’t give for the dreamless, buoyant, uninterrupted sleep that Med-X provides. _Where’s Hancock when you need him_?

“ _Hello_ there, ma’am.” 

Nora yelps from the warm breath at her ear, drawing a few looks from some bystanders for a brief moment as she turns around and looks up into familiar burning brown eyes. “ _Jesus_!”

“I scared ya.” Ray whispers ominously around the cigarette hanging from his lips. He pinches it while taking a drag before blowing the smoke up high into the sky. She can just make out his wide grin in the dim light.

“What _the hell_ do you think you’re doing?” Nora hisses, appalled. She gives him a quick once over before taking a step back to distance herself. Ray observes this in silent amusement, tipping his chin back and following her every movement with his eyes.

“Am I not allowed to speak to you, General?” A single eyebrow arches high on his forehead and the corner of his mouth curves in a smile. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” She scowls, bewilderment flashing across her face when his smile only seems to grow with her hostility. “What do you want, Valdez?”

“ _Wellll_ …” Ray drawls, voice muffled by his cigarette. He makes a ridiculous show of suspiciously looking to his left and then to his right, as if they were starring in a two-bit comedy holo that she wasn’t aware of. “Aren’t you supposed to punish me, _ma’am_?”

He’s drunk. Must be. 

Nora breathes deeply through her nose to try to keep her temper in check, narrowing her eyes dangerously up at Ray. “Don’t _test me_ , shithead. If you think for a second that I would hesitate to have you dodge artillery strikes for my amusement, you’d be sorely and _dangerously_ mistaken.” He blinks. “Get to my office, _now_.”

The low thunder in her voice definitely draws the attention of the Minutemen and partygoers surrounding them, conversations momentarily hushing to a halt to watch the General marching angrily through the crowds, followed closely by Ray Valdez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	3. Para Siempre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shout out to the readers who are accompanying me on both AO3 AND the Falloutkinkmeme. You are all super awesome and kind to me and I love you for it.   
> Thanks for the feedback and the praise, it inspires me. :) <3

Nora pushes the doors to her quarters closed with a slam that shakes the old wood to the hinges. She feels hot and jumpy, knowing that she’s alone in her room with this man—Ray. She’d saved herself with that scene in the middle of the party, now there was absolutely no way that they could stay away for too long. Most knew that the General had been pissed and had all but _dragged_ Valdez into her office for his punishment. She tried to reassure herself that such a thing was not suspicious; she had done it before with out-of-line Minutemen. This wasn’t any different. 

As soon as Nora turns around she is pinned against the wood by his eyes; deeply set and shadowy under his strong brow in the glowing orange lantern light. He stares at her from across the room, his intent look darting around her face as if trying to interpret something. _Her next move_.

“So.” She speaks finally, crossing her arms on her chest. “Who have you told?”

Ray draws his head back in surprise, his brow furrowing into a frown. He looks offended, but over-dramatically so. _Can’t get a read on him_... “Christ, no one!”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Look lady— _ma’am_ ,” He pauses, holding out his palms as he seems to try to grasp for words. “You don’t _have_ to believe me, alright? But I think you know that I wouldn’t be too popular if I went around claimin’ I boinked the _esteemed_ General.”

Nora scowls at that but he only shrugs. “It’s true! I really got the shit end of the friggin’ stick here, okay? I got _the_ best fuckin’ bragging rights in _history_ with the wrong crowd to spit it to.” He opens his mouth and closes it, thinking. “Ma’am.” He adds with a broad, satisfied smile. 

“Just _shut up_.” She waves her hands over her head wildly in dismissal before stalking past him to sit at the General’s table. Nora takes her place on one side, where her chair stands alone and faces four chairs on the opposite side. “Sit down.” She barks, pointing to the chair directly across from her. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Ray grins excitedly, practically tripping over himself to obey. 

“No! No, no, no.” Nora leans over the table and wags her finger in his face. “None of that shit, _ever_ again.”

He glances between her finger and her face, confused. “Why? I won’t tell.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the General. You’re a raider—,”

“ _Used_ to be, ma’am.” He corrects, looking a bit miffed. He stares at her for a long moment before he turns his eyes down to his hands. “I gave that up after you.”

“I don’t give a single, solitary _fuck_ ,” Nora hisses, standing up from her chair and bracing her hands on the tabletop to loom over him threateningly. He shrinks down almost imperceptibly in his seat, but it’s undeniably there for her to sense: fear. “The Minutemen are my _family_. I put too much of myself into these men and women to have one shithead screw it all up to chase after some unattainable trim. You are in it till the end or I will drown you in the fucking ocean.”

“I _am_ in it till the end!” Ray fires back but wisely remains seated in his chair. Nora is unflinching in the glare she traps him in, the silence between them stretching for a few long beats before he fidgets and sighs loudly. “Okay—alright! Okay. _At first_ I came here just to see you.” Nora’s gaze thins darkly. “But! _But_ , when I actually joined up, met my squad… I don’t know, shit. I like it here.”

Nora tilts her head to the side and stares down her nose at him, watching as his expression begins to soften. She lowers herself back down into her seat. “The people here don’t stink as bad as my old crew, and they’re nice to me. I get paid and don’t have to hurt anyone for it.” He blinks, and then grins wickedly at her. “Well, I hurt _bad guys_ now. _Big_ fuckin’ difference, that.”

“Fine. _Fine_.” Nora sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “But here you are, causing trouble already.”

“Well, shit,” He pushes his foot against the table to balance back on his chair’s two back legs, holding his palms up in a lazy shrug. “ _That_ I can’t help, ma’am.”

“You sure as shit will now that _I’m_ here.” Nora growls with an unlit cigarette pinched between her lips.

Ray watches her for a moment as she pats down her chest pockets, for a lighter probably. He lifts up his hips to reach into his front pocket, flipping open his silver lighter and leaning over the table with the flame outstretched for her. Nora pauses, looking between the flame and his face for a moment before sighing through her nose in defeat and leaning forward to light her cigarette. “So,” She breathes out a puff of grey smoke and snaps the cap to her new beer bottle off on the edge of the table. “Tell me what really happened with the compromised mission, Valdez.”

“Ah—heh. Before I tell ya that, this is actually _your_ lighter.” Ray grins with a sliver of an apology in the sheepish look that he flashes her—mostly though there is the glimmer of mischief in the simmer of his brown eyes. “I stole it. From your backpack… You know, _that_ day.”

Nora stares blankly at him.

“Uh—the day we fucked?”

“ _Yes_ , Valdez, I _know_ what you’re talking about.” Nora grinds out, snatching the lighter from his grip and turning it around to find where Deacon had carved his initial inside a heart with an arrow through it. “I was trying to process the balls it took to steal _my_ fucking lighter. I’ve been looking for this for—well. A while.”

“Yeah, well, I have something _else_ of yours too.” Nora looks up from where her finger had been tracing the crudely drawn letter ‘D’ on her lighter. She narrows her eyes in confusion at the loaded smirk that spreads across Ray’s face. He inhales deeply and leans back in his chair with exaggerated nonchalance, waggling his eyebrows at her and patting the chest of his leather duster where Nora could assume that he must have an inside pocket. 

“Wha—… oh. My underwear.” _What else could it be_?

“Yes, _ma’am_.” He purrs, opening up his duster enough so that he could peek at the ripped underwear that Nora had given him _**that day**_. _Jesus, he keeps it in his jacket_? “My fondest earthly possession, you know.”

“I’m not surprised.” Nora smiles, the expression all jagged glass and vinegar, and holds his hot stare with unwavering strength as she lazily blows smoke rings into the air. “Now stop avoiding my question: what happened with the mission?” 

“You don’t believe my story, General?” Ray watches aptly as she raises her bottle to her lips to take a long drink. He shifts in his seat and rolls his broad shoulders.

“No, not completely.” She replies, wincing at the harsh carbonation as she polishes off half of her second beer. “At least, I don’t believe the reason that you provided for entering the metro. Scrap for me? Not buying it.”

“Actually, that _was_ half of it, ma’am.” He sighs, running a hand through the hair on top of his head. “I, uh, collect scrap for you.”

“Why?” Nora taps the ashes off her cigarette into a nearby ashtray. 

“Because I overheard someone say that you haul a lot of it for settlements.” He answers easily, trying to hold the eyes that dart away from his upon the sincerity in his answer.

She clears her throat, embarrassed by his confession. “So, that’s half. What about the rest of it?”

Ray breathes deeply and continues to fidget, clenching and relaxing his fists rhythmically. He is now the one who avoids her gaze. “I recognized the raiders.” Nora’s brow draws down in a slight frown. “I used to run with them sometimes, when I needed caps. I uh… don’t want my squad to know.”

“So where does Captain Osborn think you came from?” She asks evenly.

“Well I just told her _most_ of the truth.” He looks up into her eyes, leaning back to cradle the back of his head with his hands. “My family is from Baja, they died running with a caravan on the way to DC. I came to the Commonwealth after they died.”

“Baja.” Nora repeats, her curiosity taking priority. “I heard Ronnie—excuse me, Major Shaw—mention that. She said you are a tribal? What’s that mean?”

Ray squints at Nora in confusion for a moment, as if trying to figure out if she is joking or not. “Don’t remember my tribe but I know we were called The Sangre, if that’s what you mean, ma’am.”

“I’ve been to Baja. It’s beautiful.” Nora smiles thoughtfully down at the lighter in her hands, spinning it on the table top absently. “Or, it _was_.” 

“ _You’ve_ been?” Ray sounds doubtful. He looks her over as if seeing her for the first time, leaning his chair back on two legs. “When?”

“Oh… Long before you were born.” She shakes her head, dismissing the memories that swarm her mind, and finishes off her beer in a few gulps. “Back to the point, Valdez. Endangering your squad like you did just to prevent discovery is intolerable.”

Sensing the momentary ease between them slipping, Ray nods tersely and manages to banish the mirth from his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

_He’s trying_. The thought springs into her mind, soft like a whisper, and Nora steels herself against the flutter of hope for him in her chest. “This deserves punishment under _normal_ circumstances, but I’ve decided not to tell anyone of what I know about your past.” Ray blinks rapidly a few times and exhales deeply at those words, looking as if an immense weight had left his shoulders. “I also believe that Captain Osborn, from what I know of her, wouldn’t have let a recruit tell her what to do if she didn’t agree with it. So I will confront _her_ with this mistake.”

“Ma’am, I’ll take her punishment.” 

“Why?” Nora narrows her eyes at Ray, drumming her nails impatiently against the wood of the tabletop. 

“I—Because she doesn’t deserve it, whatever it is. I’ll take it for her.” He looks uncomfortable and grumpy, like it’s embarrassing for him to be doing something admirable for another human being. “Not that the Captain can’t handle it, I’ve seen her take some nasty hits _and_ she’s a lot tougher than most—,”

“Let me stop you there, Valdez.” Nora closes her eyes in frustration and holds up a hand. “Am I wrong, or do you think we have _capital punishment_ here at The Castle?”

“Well…” He drawls, scratching at his jaw and shrugging. “Don’t know what that is, ma’am. If it means beatin’ the shit out of someone for doin’ something stupid then… yeah. That.”

“Absolutely not.” Nora cocks her head and blows swirls of smoke from her nostrils. “Punishment would be something more so annoying than painful. Like cleaning up Brahmin crap or having an awful guard shift. Depending on my mood and creativity, it changes.”

“That’s _it_?” He looks bewildered by the concept. “Well fuck me, how come everyone ain’t just doin’ whatever they want?”

Nora glares, lighting up a new cigarette. “Well it gets worse with the real mistakes. Your Captain’s mistake wasn’t awful, but it definitely wasn’t good. She endangered the lives of her squad; it doesn’t matter whether or not you _suggested_ it. She could have—and should have—ignored your stupid idea. I won’t discuss her punishment with you because it’s not your business, but it won’t involve Brahmin shit. Or a beating.”

Ray stares at the smoke that spirals smoothly from Nora’s opened mouth, chewing absently on his bottom lip as he nods. “I guess you run things differently around here, General.”

“Yes I do.” She looks at him from underneath her lashes, her eyes unconsciously following the strong line of his neck and down to the inch or so of revealed flesh from a loosened button on his shirt. “So. I guess things are settled between us now, Ray.”

They both look up in unison, meeting eyes over Nora’s mistake. A smirk—widening by the second—creeps slowly onto Ray’s face and she tries to rein in the blush that threatens to inflame her ears. “ _Valdez_ , I meant. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, _ma’am_.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his eyes darting gleefully around her face to drink in her expression. He flashes her a toothy grin. “My name sounds good on your lips.”

“Valdez, I’m only going to say this _once_ , so you better listen _real_ close.” Nora hisses, harsh and quiet, and leans forward until they are close enough for Nora to see the faint scars on Ray’s face. One high on the bridge of his nose, one marring his left eye brow, and one prominent line running down the left side of his face, from his temple to the edge of his jaw. His pupils dilate slightly as she gets closer, and she can see his fists clenching on top of the table. “I’m your _General_ , nothing more. With that title I need your unwavering respect and loyalty or I can’t lead you.”

“You have it.” Ray answers without hesitation, his tone hushed but not lacking that quirk of impish delight that seems to rule him. “Why do you think I skipped out to join up with the Minutemen? _Cause I was horny_? Nah, General. I did it just because _you_ told me to.” She watches him closely, forgetting about her cigarette and allowing it to surround them in soft curls of grey, hazy smoke. His voice lowers a register. “See, _you’ve_ had _me_ ever since you held a gun to my head while I made you come.”

He makes a pistol with his fingers and holds it to his temple, lips spreading into a smirk and his tongue peeking out to press against the pointed tip of his canine tooth. 

_We’re too close_. Nora knows this, can feel this moment seizing her muscles and holding her there under his gaze. She could kiss him right now, if she leaned across the table and grabbed the collar of his leather duster. He’s clean now, at least. She could have him right now; he could fuck her as hard as she knows he’s capable. She looks at his fingers, thick and long and free of grime. Her eyes dart from his hands back up into his eyes, where he had been focused on her parted lips. He meets her stare, breathing in deeply through his nose before leaning away from her abruptly. And just like that…

Nora blinks as her mind clears and she shifts in her seat, rubbing her thighs together. She swallows and exhales a bit unsteadily before taking a long, eye watering drag on her cigarette. 

“That’s a deal, General.” Ray says, reaching down to shamelessly adjust a very obvious erection in his jeans. She refuses to let her eyes follow his hands as he does this and instead turns her gaze to snub out her cigarette. “And just so you know, I won’t do anything to you— _unless_ you tell me to.”

“Good. I won’t.” Nora snaps, a bit breathless, and clears her throat as she stands up. He stands instantly as she does, his eyes glued to her every move as she walks around the table—giving him a wide berth—and makes a beeline towards the door. There she pauses, hand on the doorknob, before turning back to look Ray in the eye sternly. “You swear that you’ll follow me, as your General and as your leader? Without hesitation.”

“Para siempre.” He smiles, a bright spark in his dark eyes that makes her apprehensive. Nora blinks at the way his accent shifts to something rolling and rich—Spanish, she realizes. 

“Huh?” She grunts stupidly, her ears hot.

“Yes, I swear.” Ray shakes his head with a grin, approaching her slowly and giving her a lax but not entirely disrespectful salute.

Nora swings open the door to find Dogmeat sitting patiently across the hallway from her quarters. The dog stares up at his human and the stranger for a moment before eventually rising up on all fours to pad past her with a low bark in greeting. 

“Big dog.” Ray is at her side, taking great exaggerated care to not touch her as he squeezes past her to stand outside her doorway. 

She sighs, letting up the General act and fixing him with a tired frown. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Aye, aye ma’am.” He nods, and despite his straight face Nora can still catch that insufferable gleam in his eye. _Jesus, does he ever let up_?

A flash of something pesky and defiant in Ray’s eyes is the last thing Nora sees before she shuts her door hard enough to send the hinges squeaking in protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) <3


	4. Corsair Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter... They get meatier later on, ya'll, I promise. ;)

_Sigh_. 

Nora turns away from her perch atop the Castle wall where she had been happily spying on Preston and Curie—who are absolutely sickening, smiling shyly and giggling at one another mid-conversation down on the beach below—when the bird-like voice of a recruit interrupts her concentration. “Excuse me?”

“Uh—I’m real sorry, General.” The recruit Nora believes is named Jessica stammers. She is very pretty and also rather young, Nora notes to herself. Probably barely twenty, _if_ that. The girl’s cornflower blue eyes dart around the General’s blank expression anxiously. “I know it ain’t the best news—,”

“No,” Nora tries to smile to ease the girl’s fright. _Sheesh, what does everyone tell these newbies about me_? “I meant ‘excuse me’ as in: ‘I wasn’t listening’. I apologize. Please repeat that.” 

“Oh!” She pipes up, brightening up a bit before frowning and shuffling on her feet. “Well, ma’am, I was instructed by Major Shaw to inform you about the caravan from County Crossing, the one with your weapon haul?”

“Ah _shit_.” Nora grumbles, turning her body to fully face the young woman. Despite the girl having an inch or two of height on the General, it’s still blaringly clear who is shaking in their boots and who can taste fear in the humid air. “So it’s bad news then?”

“Ye—yes.” Jessica exhales. “Well—maybe not. It’s just that, well, they were due to arrive within the week when you first arrived.”

“And they haven’t.” 

“No ma’am. They’re only a day off schedule, but… well.” The recruit looks grave, pressing her lips together as she watches Nora look off angrily into the ocean’s horizon line. “Major Shaw asked me to inform you because I have been promoted to help monitor trade routes with a few others and… well, I was the one who noticed we hadn’t received word from the caravan.”

Nora sighs tiredly, having yet to find a cure for the deep running exhaustion in her bones, and nods. “Good on you. We can’t lose that haul.”

“No, ma’am.” 

“Where’s Shaw?” Nora runs her hands through her thick hair. 

“She’s in the armory, ma’am.” A man speaks up from behind the two women. The recruit and the General turn to the voice of the newcomer and while Jessica smiles shyly, Nora’s thundercloud glare only darkens. “Well _hey there_ , Jessie.”

“Hi, Ray.” The recruit greets as Valdez strolls over, his bowlegged stride unhurried with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“ _Excuse_ me, Valdez, were you eavesdropping?” Nora snaps, looking down her nose at Ray’s faux-offended expression. He touches a hand to his chest lightly and reels his head back. 

“Not at all, ma’am.” She _hates_ that her gut still simmers from the way he says the word. _Ma’am_. There is a secret filth behind it that only Nora can translate. “Just, uh, caught the tail-end of that.”

The General breathes out a harsh, clipped laugh without much humor in it. “ _Right_.” She turns to the young girl. “Thank you for informing me of the situation. You are dismissed.” 

“General.” Jessica nods respectfully and scurries away as fast as her legs can carry her. 

Nora doesn’t bother to look back at Ray as she turns on her heel and stalks stormily towards the stairs that lead down into the courtyard. She narrows her eyes irritably when the ancient metal stairs creak and shake wildly with Ray’s pace of taking two stairs at a time in order to catch up with her. 

“Permission to speak with you, ma’am?” He jogs up to walk beside her with a friendly smile. Nora quickens her pace childishly.

“Denied.” Nora barks, throwing a forced smile at an elderly settler who watches the General and the Minuteman curiously from a spot in the shade. 

“Please?”

Nora stops abruptly and Ray skids on the dry dirt in order to slow down. He turns, squinting through the sun to observe her expression. “Valdez, I’m busy.”

“I know! I was eavesdropping.” Nora’s face crumples up in distaste of his shining million dollar grin. She shakes her head, striding forward to leave him staring after her. “Hey—I heard you’re pre-war, ma’am!”

Nora whips back around instantly and stomps the few steps it takes to face Ray again. “ _What did you just say to me_?”

He bends at the waist to her eye level in order to stage whisper to her from behind his hand. “Rumor has it, ma’am, that you were around _before_ the war. The big bang _boom_ war. _In a vault_.” A spark of fear ignites slowly in his eyes at the intensity in Nora’s unnerving yellow gaze. “Uh… shit, I was just… well I was thinkin’ about what you said about Baja—,”

“And?”

“Well, you said that you’ve been there.” He answers after a moment, gesticulating with his big, scarred hands as he talks. “You said it was long before I was born, and at first I thought you were fuckin’ with me, ‘cause you’re older than me but not _that_ much older—,”

“You know something, Valdez,” Nora looks down contemplatively at her boots, a humorless chuckle falling from her lips. “I’m _just a tad_ closer to pistol whipping you than I usually am.”

“ _Right_ , okay, point taken.” Ray laughs merrily, holding his palms up in surrender. “I just wanted to hear about what Baja was like before the war, y’know?” Nora looks up at his face, watches as he reaches up a hand to scratch at the back of his head as he looks out thoughtfully at the ocean behind her. He’s quiet for a moment before he shrugs. “When you mentioned it you looked happy, I guess—like, happier than _I’ve_ ever seen. Well, except when we, _you know_ —”

“Jesus!” She looks around quickly before she turns her thunderous eyes back on Ray’s startled expression. “You know what? This isn’t the time or place for this shit.”

“ _Riiight_ , the caravan.” He nods sagely, falling back into step behind her as she ducks into the armory. He lingers at the entrance, knowing he isn’t allowed entry without clearance, and Nora can feel his eyes follow her until she turns around the corner and into the main chamber. 

“Hey, General!” Ronnie shouts over the ear-splitting sound of the quartermaster hammering an aluminum bat into shape. She frowns and shoots a scowl at the man bent over the workbench. “Quit that noise, Powell! General’s on deck for fuck’s sake!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” The man named Powell nods, setting down the hammer and rolling his shoulder in a stretch. 

“Hey, Ronnie.” Nora greets, her voice rasping from exhaustion. _Jesus, I need proper sleep_. She clears her throat. “So. My guns.”

“Your guns.” Ronnie nods with a grim set to her lips. “Could be nothing, only a day late.”

Nora shakes her head. “It doesn’t take four days to get from Goodneighbor to the Castle even _with_ pickups, and especially with clear skies.” 

“Seems suspicious alright.” Ronnie admits finally with an incline of her head. “Course it shouldn’t be too bad if you and the mutt cleaned the way. No Greenskins or Gunners at least?”

“We cleared a path, Major.” She replies firmly, rolling her sore neck and wincing. “Doesn’t mean rats can’t crawl back in through the cracks.”

Ronnie shrugs and purses her lips in a moment of contemplative silence. “Maybe the Brahmin tuckered out. I’ve seen that happen plenty of times.” Ronnie chuckles as Nora lights a cigarette. “Could be that they’re holed up somewhere with a stubborn tub of lard.”

“Whatever the case may be, I’m looking for them.” Nora clamps her lips around her cigarette as she walks over to a shelf to collect a couple frag grenades. “Today.”

“Good idea, General. That dog of yours ought to pick up on that caravan real fast.” Ronnie follows Nora as she makes her way out of the armory, the two women breezing past Valdez and ignoring him as he walks quickly to catch up with them. “You taking back up?”

Nora is about to reply when she notices Ray, which sends her stopping in her tracks to fix him with a scowl. Ronnie follows Nora’s eyes and she too sours at the sight of the tall, grinning idiot. “Ah, Valdez...” 

“Major Shaw,” He nods, his eyes darting briefly to meet Nora’s. “General.”

“ _Well_? Are you touched in the fuckin’ head, Valdez? Can’t you see we’re busy?” Ronnie barks. 

“Well, Major, I’m only followin’ up on _your_ orders.” He begins cheerfully, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “You wanted to give my squad an assignment while Captain Osborn lies low.”

“Aw, shit. Suppose I did...” Ronnie sighs, narrowing her eyes in thought as Nora tries to retreat quietly. “Say, General—think you could bring out Osborn’s crew on this one? It’d keep them limbered up while she’s on recovery.”

Nora’s spine is straight as a steel beam as she pauses in her escape, her teeth gnashing together. _That sneaky fucker_ … 

“Uhm.” Nora hums irritably, turning back to face Ronnie and Valdez. “I work better in pairs or alone. Usually it’s just me and the dog.”

“We’ll stay out of your way, General.” Ray interjects quickly, practically glowing under the harsh scrutiny of Nora’s stare. “Christ I think we’re just dyin’ to get out there and see you in action, honestly. It’ll be like watchin’ Grognak in The Bosom of the Corsair Queen. Or, maybe more like watchin’ the _Corsair Queen_ —,”

“Shut your trap, Valdez, ya god damned brownnoser!” Ronnie spits, fixing him with a nasty scowl until he forcibly bites back a quivering smile and a strained hum that must’ve been a laugh. Satisfied, she turns back to Nora. “It’s up to you of course, General, but he’s right for once. The kids should like to learn from one of the best.”

Nora sighs heavily through her nose, squinting as she stares in contemplation out at the ocean line over the wall. _Shit_. It _would_ be a good move as the General to observe her men and women in action. And this isn’t a high stakes run; she meticulously cleaned house along the trade route to ensure her guns and scrap got to the Castle. 

_If only it were a different god damn squad_. 

“ _Fine_. Fine.” Nora finally growls, waving Ray away and watching him jog towards the barracks with a triumphant smile on his face. “Get your squad together in ten minutes or I’m leaving without you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	5. Savior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back, posting some backlog and working on new chapters. :) <3

“They’ve been dead for a while, General.” Beth Turner calls out grimly and Nora curses under her breath. The ghoul stands up, wiping brown, coagulated blood on her cargo pants as she stares down at the corpses of the missing caravan. “Definitely ferals.”

“Why do you say that?” Harry Gould asks in his quiet, deep voice.

“Those bites and scratches are too minor to be a ‘guai or a deathclaw.” She shakes her head, eyes stern as she watches the flies buzz lazily around the dead caravan guard. “Besides, we’re too far into the city for beasts like that.”

“At least no one took the guns.” Kyle Sims offers brightly from where he and Ray are crouching beside the bloated, stiff brahmin corpse. 

“That things ready to blow.” Gould remarks with a nod to the Brahmin and Sims’ face falls in mild horror. “Better be careful, yanking that stuff off it. You’ll stink like shit for weeks if it bursts on ya.” 

Nora observes the squad silently from the opposite side of the room, occasionally ignoring them in favor of scanning the area outside of the cramped garage that the missing caravan had settled in. Dogmeat sits beside her, calmly watching the humans as they move about the room. 

The trip into the city had been quick and quiet. Dogmeat had tracked the caravan to an easy-to-miss garage near Mass Bay Medical Center. It was _relatively_ deserted around the old hospital, thanks to Nora and MacCready’s recent clean-up of Gunner camps interfering with Goodneighbor’s trade routes. The Minutemen _had_ come across a group of scouting Gunners patrolling a touch too far away from Mass Bay, but Nora and Harry Gould were quick to execute them from a distance within two blinks. 

“Can you handle that much weight, beefcake?” Sims asks.

Nora turns her attention back to the two men attending to her guns. Ray has taken most of the weight from the brahmin and he winces underneath it, pursing his lips together in concentration as he struggles to arrange the bundles of weapons. 

“Sure he can.” Turner pipes up, winking at Ray when he smiles at her. “In fact, I think I want a piggy back ride once you get all those guns situated, big boy.”

“Sure. Hop on, Bethy.” Ray grins boyishly, squatting at the knees and slapping at his ass in encouragement. Sims snorts loudly and Beth pantomimes sprinting across the room and leaping in slow motion onto the pile on top of Ray’s back. 

“Knock it off.” Gould smirks, chancing a discreet glance at the General’s slight quirk of a smile. 

“This isn’t going to work, kids.” Nora pushes off from the wall she leans against and frowns thoughtfully at Ray. He looks up at her before straightening to his full height and clearing his throat.

“I can handle it, General, honest.” 

“Not the point, Valdez.” Nora shakes her head, looking pointedly at the shiny new aluminum swatter he grips in his right hand. “You are here to cover us at a moment’s notice with that bat. I can’t have you waddling around when Gould needs you to keep hostiles off his back.” Ray looks like he wants to argue but he doesn’t, wisely. Nora thinks hard for a moment, looking at each member of the squad before shaking her head. “We need a brahmin.”

“Where’s the nearest settlement?” Sims asks no one in particular, rubbing nervously at his thin neck. 

“Hangman’s Alley.” Turner mumbles.

“No, that’s too far, and so is the Castle.” Nora dismisses quickly. “Turner, you’ll lead Valdez and Gould to Goodneighbor, go talk to Mayor Hancock about getting a brahmin. Sims and I will watch the guns.”

“Er—how do we pay for a brahmin, General?” Turner asks doubtfully. 

_Sigh_. “Just—tell Hancock that the General now owes him _seven_ boxes of berry Mentats. _And_ another favor. He’ll understand.” She reaches into her pack as an afterthought and tosses Turner a canister of X-Cell. The ghoul’s black eyes widen dramatically as she turns the drug over in her palm to observe it. “And give him that, to sweeten the deal. If you three aren’t back here within two hours then Sims and I are coming to get you.” Dogmeat whines, head-butting Nora’s thigh gently. “Oh, and take my dog. Hancock will recognize him.”

“Aye, aye ma’am.” Turner and Gould bark out in unison and Ray grunts as he lets the heavy bundles of weapons slide off his back. As the three turn to leave Ray shoots Nora a loaded glance, leaning his bat over his shoulder before ducking underneath the garage door to follow Turner and Gould. Nora gives Dogmeat a kiss on the top of his head and a pat on the butt, smiling after the dog as he prances excitedly after the heels of the squad. 

It is ten minutes before Sims stops staring nervously at Nora, twenty minutes before he stops fidgeting, thirty until he starts to pace anxiously, and forty-five minutes until he speaks up with something other than forced small talk.

“Uh… General?” He nearly squeaks, standing in the middle of the garage and looking around at the dead bodies. 

Nora sighs from where she sits atop a set of drawers and glances up momentarily from her Pipboy, leaning her head back against the wall to watch the jumpy young man. “Yes, Sims? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks for askin’, ma’am.” He smiles sweetly before he seems to remember what he was originally going to say. He frowns now, eyes darting between the two human bodies and the bloated brahmin. “It’s just… aren’t there _two_ guards per caravan runner?”

Nora’s brow furrows and she squints over the edge of her Pipboy at the recruit before sitting up straight and sliding off of the drawers to walk over to stand beside Sims. She blinks a few times before her ears warm in shame. She should have noticed that, _fuck_.

“Good catch, Sims.” She nods, pressing her thumb to her bottom lip as her eyes dart around the bodies. “However… We can’t leave the guns to go searching right now and I’m not going to leave you here by yourself.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He breathes out, grinning when she looks up to give him a small smile. 

“We’ll deal with this once the squad returns.”

It’s another thirty-two minutes of Sims bouncing a baseball off of the opposite wall and Nora nearly nodding off more than once before they hear the unmistakable low drone of a brahmin. Sims brightens up like a light at the prospect of escaping the awkward air in the room, jumping to his feet and making as if to open the garage door. 

“Hold there, Sims.” Nora says quietly, shaking her head when he looks back at her in question.

“Ma’am?” He whispers, fear painting in his eyes as she holds up a finger and cocks her head to the side to listen carefully to the approaching footsteps. They are both stock still as they wait, the brahmin’s guttural noises getting closer and closer. 

A dog’s bark rings out in a greeting and Nora smiles. 

“It’s them.” Almost as soon as the words leave her mouth there is a jaunty tune knocked into the door by rapping knuckles. 

“Helloooo?” Turner’s gravelly voice rings out as she continues to knock. Sims hits the glowing red garage door button and Nora slides down off of her perch to stretch.

The door rolls up to slowly reveal the three returning Minutemen, plus dog and bovine. Nora meets eyes with Dogmeat, who barks and pads over to her with his tongue lolling out. His eyes are bright with inexpressible affection and his tail is nearly invisible with how fast it twitches back and forth.

“Hey boy.” She hushes into her dog’s fur, scratching hard behind his ear before standing up. Looking up she sees Gould going straight for the guns, hauling them up into his arms with a grimace and carrying them over to the brahmin. Ray is standing in his usual wide-legged stance, his bat resting on his shoulder while his other arm outstretches to gesture proudly to the two-headed cow. Nora snorts, thinking he looks very much like an assistant on a game show, revealing the winner’s prize. “So, it all went over smoothly?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Turner wheezes as she picks up a box of scrap and hauls it over to shove into Ray’s arms. She turns, dusting off her hands and facing Nora. “Hancock wanted us to tell you that it was no problem about borrowing the brahmin, but that instead of a favor he would take the chance to finally give you a tour of Goodneighbor.”

“And then he winked at us.” Gould mumbled, a subtle smile on his weathered face.

“That sounds about right.” Nora nods, laughing softly when imagining _that_ particular scene playing out. She’d have to go visit Hancock soon, then. “Well, nice job you three. However, we have a new problem to address.”

The three of them pause in what they are doing and look up to their General, equal parts concern and reluctance plainly written in their expressions. 

“Sims made the discovery of a missing caravan guard while you were all retrieving the brahmin.” She sighs, glancing over at Sims for a moment before grabbing her rifle and rolling her neck in a stretch. “We can’t spare the time for an extensive search today, but I’m going to quickly scout around the area to see if the guard managed to survive. With what happened to the rest of the guard’s crew, he’s probably injured and is most likely nearby—,”

“I’ll go with you, ma’am.” Ray speaks up immediately, flexing his fingers around his bat and striding across the garage towards her. “I’ll cover you.”

“I have Dogmeat to cover me.” Nora snaps, staring hard up into Ray’s wide, dilated eyes as she shoulders her pack. She feels a pang of sympathy for him momentarily—he probably hasn’t seen much action since enlisting and it is obvious that he is _itching_ for a fight. It’s not as if new squads see much combat during the first month or two. That comes _after_ the training period.

“Ma’am, what if you find the guard alive? You’ll need someone to carry ‘em, yeah?” Ray asks quietly, watching the emotions play on Nora’s face. “I won’t get in the way, General.” He assures her earnestly, his eyes hard with sincerity.

Nora exhales irritably through her nose and looks up at Ray, her jaw tightening as she mulls over his reasoning in her mind. She _could_ find a way to dismiss his company and she could _definitely_ give him a dressing down so severe that he doesn’t even remember what fucking day it is, but… She can see the real motive behind his request—can see it simmering in his dark eyes: _Trust me. Please._

“Fine,” She nods once, harshly, and turns away from Ray to face the rest of the squad. “Valdez and Dogmeat will accompany me; the three of you are to stay here and load up that brahmin. Wait for us, but if we don’t return before the hour then head to Goodneighbor and let Hancock know of the situation. We can’t lose those guns _or_ the scrap, is that understood?”

They all nod and get back to work loading up the brahmin while Nora tries to get Dogmeat on the scent. It takes a few minutes but he eventually pinpoints a trail, keeping his shiny nose low to the ground.

Dogmeat gives Nora a quiet yap as he takes off at a slow pace out of the garage. Ray sticks close to Nora’s side, leaning his bat against the back of his neck and gripping each end of the swatter. She can feel him glancing over at her sporadically, attempting to read her stern expression as Dogmeat leads them a block away from the garage. It isn’t long before their search brings them to an old apartment building. Dogmeat sits patiently in front of the door while Nora steps forward to push it open, wincing and covering her nose at the thick odor that rushes out to her face. 

She sneezes loudly three times before groaning. “Ugh, excuse me.”

“You’re excused.” Ray mumbles distractedly as he brushes past her and into the apartment. Nora looks after him, taken aback, before briefly wondering if a simple ‘bless you’ was still relevant in the Commonwealth. 

She follows behind him, eye to her scope, as they make their way down a long hallway with boarded up rooms scattered around them. It’s dead silent, unnervingly so, and the air is heavy and thick with damp mold smell. Nora’s skin begins to prickle with the further they travel into the building. The light from the outside is incrementally swallowed up by the consuming black of centuries of isolation. 

“I can’t see shit, General.” Ray whispers and stops abruptly, causing Nora to thump into his solid back. Nora grumbles, shoving him forward roughly before flicking her Pipboy light on. “Damn, that’s bright!” 

Nora has a split second to process hot, rancid breath on the back of her neck before an unearthly growl roars in her ear and a tearing pain erupts in her shoulder.

She shrieks as she is pulled backwards by knobby, pallid arms with hands that claw wildly in vain at the breastplate of the combat armor underneath her blue coat. The feral ghoul is trying to drag her into the shadows and away from her companions with its teeth sunken deeply into the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder. Its strength and speed shock Nora into a near catatonic state as Ray whips around with frantic eyes that are immediately blinded by her Pipboy light. 

“General!” He shouts, breaking into a sprint after the glow of her Pipboy. 

The ghoul begins to wrestle with Nora when she suddenly gains her mind back. She bucks and snarls in the creature’s grip, reaching down to her hip and struggling with the buckle there to release her combat knife. 

Ray is fast, his long legs barreling after Nora, but the ghoul is much faster. She can’t see where she is being dragged, but walking through the building earlier she had spotted many large holes in the floor leading to who knows where. A basement? She didn’t want to find out. Once she has her knife free she twists her arm back awkwardly, trying to get a good angle to wedge her blade underneath the feral’s kneecap. If she can slow it down she can get its teeth out of her shoulder and Ray will get there and finish off the creature. Luck is somewhat on her side, for just when her combat knife is knocked out of her grip, she hears the telltale sound of scrabbling paws on hardwood floors. 

Dogmeat slams into the ghoul’s leg and latches onto the feral’s shin with deadly jaws, snarling and ripping wildly until Nora hears the ghoul’s leg break from the pressure. Nora and the feral hit the floor hard with the creature’s teeth still gnawing on her shoulder, pinning her under its weight and attempting to tear at the muscle in her back. Dogmeat pulls hard on the ghoul’s broken leg, growling menacingly as he yanks with all his might. 

“Duck, General!” Ray is there in an instant, sliding against the floor as he struggles to stop his breakneck pace. She does and the moment her head is out of harm’s way Ray reels his leg back and kicks at the ghoul’s skull. The creature cries out as it is thrown against the wall beside Nora, hissing and writhing around with half of its head sunken in. Nora gasps at the disturbing image and scrambles to get away as Ray brings his bat down with a surprisingly amount of finesse, splitting the feral ghoul’s head open like a melon. 

“Jesus!” Nora wheezes, her hand flying to her shoulder and feeling nothing, no pain or pressure. Shock has set in; she knows this as she lightly fingers the hot, exposed flesh.

Dogmeat is at her side before she can call for him, whimpering and keening as he sniffs and nudges her face. His snout is wet with the feral’s blood and he doesn’t seem to understand when she reels back in disgust when he smears her face with it. “Good boy.” Nora whispers, shaken, and grips Dogmeat in a crushing hug. She presses her face into his fur, trying to calm her shaking body down from the adrenaline coursing through her. 

“Are you okay?” Ray nearly trips to get close to her, kneeling down in the light of her Pipboy as his eyes fly frantically over her face in search of injuries. He looks at her shoulder, sucking in a breath loudly at the gore there. “Oh, _Christ_.” Dogmeat backs up quickly to avoid Ray as he leans down to help Nora to her feet. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

“No, if there were any other ferals in here they would have come running to the noise.” Nora shakes her head, resting her hand on Ray’s shoulder in order to lean her weight against him. “We aren’t leaving until I know that caravan guard is dead.”

“Ma’am, sorry, but that’s stupid. Fuck that guy if he’s stupid enough to come in here—I say leave him.” Ray hisses, tilting her drooping head up with a careful hand under her chin. “Besides, there’s _no way_ one guy could survive in here for days with _that_ freak in the building! Nu-uh, no dice.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She snaps, slapping his hand away from her. “This is a small place, there’s no way upstairs—you saw the collapsed staircase. That means that there is just _this_ floor and only a few open apartments on it. So here’s what’s going to happen,” Nora leans into his side to rest for a moment when her head begins to float precariously from adrenaline. His arm is around her instantly, hard like iron. “ _You_ are going to take me to a secure room and patch me up while Dogmeat scouts the rest. He is quieter than us and even _if_ there were any ferals left, Dogmeat would catch their scent.”

“General—,” Ray begins, about to argue, but looking into her unwavering expression is enough to make him reconsider. He nods grimly and lifts her enough with his one arm to make it so she practically floats with him down the hall.

Once they reach a kitchen in an unlocked apartment Ray deposits her into a chair in front of a tipped over table, following her brisk instructions and searching through her pack until he finds a few candles. He lights them and scatters the candles around the immediate area, lighting up the kitchen before he shuts the door securely. Dogmeat slinks through a small hole in the wall beside the kitchen door and Nora listens to the comforting sound of his paws clicking on the floors as he searches through the dark apartment. Her chest feels empty and aching with Dogmeat out of her sight, but she tries to tell herself that the dog is just as capable as she’ll ever be. 

As safe as they can be now, Nora allows herself a deep, steadying breath as Ray returns to her side with her first aid kit. 

“Stab me with that. Just a half dose for now.” She nods to a syringe of Med-X after he looks to her helplessly, as if not knowing where to start. He does, as gently as possible and with his eyes darting between his work and Nora’s expression. “Does it need stitches?”

“Uh—how am _I_ supposed to know?” 

“Are you kidding me?” She grits out.

“General, it’s a chunk. Out of your fuckin’ shoulder.” He sounds a bit hysterical and Nora wonders about that. This man used to be a raider; it is absurd to think that he could be squeamish—especially when his choice weapon is a chained swatter. No, that isn’t it. It isn’t the gore or the fight. It’s something else.

“Hey—hey!” Nora cuts her eyes to him, his face hovering close to hers in his observation of her shoulder. “Get ahold of yourself.” He frowns and swallows as he eyes her wound. “What’s _wrong_ with you?”

“I thought you were going to be eaten, ma’am.” He narrows his eyes at her callousness and leans back a bit to sit up straight, as if to get a good look at her. His brow is drawn together in something between concern and frustration and his brown eyes are especially warm in the candlelight as they dart quickly between hers. 

“So?” She grumbles lamely, eyes unable to leave his even as he watches her lips mouth the word. He looks back up into her eyes and scrunches his face up and leans his head back a touch, baffled by her response. 

“You would be gone.” Ray replies, like it should be obvious. 

Nora blinks once and then twice, feeling heat roll deliciously through her body as the Med-X suddenly takes over. She feels so calm, so clear minded and _wonderful_. Ray notices the sudden change, cocking an eyebrow as he watches her eyes begin to swim in sweet brain chemicals.

She doesn’t think her next decision through—at least, not as much as she _should_ have. Nora stares intently at his mouth and her top lip curls back in arousal before she reaches up to grip Ray’s ears to pull him forward forcefully. 

He makes a surprised sound when she kisses him. His hands are splayed and held up palms out as if to show that he _wasn’t_ touching her, this wasn’t _his_ doing. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, though, for when he actually realizes what’s happening he makes an earnest sound deep in his chest before winding his hands in her hair and pressing against the back of her head to crush her lips into his. She feels his tongue against her lips and parts them, rolling her hips against the seat of her chair as his tongue traces along hers greedily.

Ray detangles his hands from her hair and drags her chair to him, the cheap wooden legs screeching loudly against the linoleum. Nora whimpers as she spreads her legs around him to press her groin hotly to his. She claws at him, trying to pull him down closer to her as they become more and more frantic with each passing second. Nora squeezes her thighs against his hips, slinging her arms around his neck and clinging to him to mold her body completely to his. He draws back from her lips to kiss messily across her jaw and down the uninjured side of her neck. Ray presses his lips against her pulse point, running his tongue against the hammering beat there as he slides his hands down her sides until he grips her hips.

“ _Fuck me_ , Ray,” Nora begs into his ear, breathless and frantic. “Fuck me right here.”

He growls low and impatient at the sound of her voice, squeezing the flesh of her hips hard enough to make her gasp before leaning away from her to look at her with wild eyes. “Is that the chems talking, _General_?”

She shakes her head frantically, ignoring the tight feeling in her injured shoulder. “No! No I want you, _oh god_ I want you _right now_.” Her hips buck forward, pressing the heat of her cunt firmly against his erection. He is _hard_ , desperately so, and he makes a deep, broken sound at the feeling of her grinding so urgently against him. She’s riding high on adrenaline—he can guess that easily enough, otherwise she wouldn’t be doing this. Not here and especially not with him. 

“General, we can’t do this here.” His voice shakes as she whines and nips at his neck, her hips unceasing in their rolling against him. “Oh Christ, _I want to_.”

Nora leans back from his neck and presses her lips back to his. She kisses him almost lazily this time, burning him with the heat of her need for him, stealing his breath as she sucks slowly on his tongue. He grimaces and groans loudly in a frantic sort of frustration, his fingers flexing into her as she begins to blank his mind and send tremors through him. 

She is about to reach for his zipper when a faint bark echoes nearby in the deserted building.

_Dogmeat_.

She pulls away abruptly and freezes, the consuming silence disrupted only by the heavy, broken breathing shared between the two of them. Sobering up enough at the prospect of Dogmeat calling for her, Nora stands up and tugs Ray firmly to his feet. The two make quick work of the candles until they once again rely on Nora’s Pipboy light, the near-fluorescent brightness that radiates from her arm pushing back against the dense shadows of their surroundings as Nora takes point.

She trades her rifle for her .44, swallowing and flexing her grip around the weighty metal in her hands. A groan of sliding furniture sounds behind her and Nora whips around to face Ray. He squints through the bright light of her Pipboy, reaching down to rub at his shin where she realizes he must have tripped. _Big, clumsy feet_. She turns back to what appears to be a living room—there is a tipped over television to her right, the screen cracked like a spider’s web. Nora gives a soft whistle, pausing for a moment until she hears Dogmeat’s reply. He’s closer than she expects, just ahead crouching with flattened ears in front of a closed door. 

Nora clicks her tongue and Dogmeat returns to her side with a low rumble in his throat. She closes the distance to the door as quietly as she can, trying for the doorknob. “Locked. Cover me, please.”

It isn’t long before she hears the satisfying mechanical click of the lock softening under her ministrations; she hums in approval of her quick work and straightens up with the brassy handle gripped in her hand. She meets eyes with Ray for a moment before swinging the door open and sweeping the barrel of her .44 across the expanse of the room. It looks like it used to be a child’s room, for in the far left side of the area is a squat twin sized bed with a body draped over it, legs too long for the bed frame. 

“That’s him.” Ray whispers, so close to her she wonders how he hasn’t stepped on her yet. “Gotta be, yeah?”

“Be quiet.” Nora snaps, swallowing hard with the prickling sensation that chills up the back of her neck. Lingering fears from pre-war horror holos, that’s all—it’s childish but true, even if she’ll never admit to it. She approaches at a forced brisk pace, eager to break the tension of the moment. “Hey!” She calls to the figure.

The body doesn’t move but Nora could swear she can catch the very faint rise and fall of breathing. A quick scan of the body reveals that it is only _one_ leg that hangs off the bed. The other is folded up on the bed at an unnatural angle and she realizes with a jolt of shock that the foot is missing. Nora’s face pulls in disgust before she reaches a leg up to nudge the back of the body with her boot. It has the desired effect—the body rolls over enough for a face to be revealed. It is a man, middle aged and bearded. He is ashen but not like a corpse. She reaches a careful hand towards the man’s neck, feeling Ray’s anxious heat radiating at her side. 

“He’s alive.”


	6. High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. :(

“Attention! General’s on deck!”

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Nora growls, running a hand fussily through her hair and snagging roughly at the tangles. 

“They do that every time?” Gould asks from the General’s side, smiling mildly at her when she rolls her eyes and nods. 

“Don’t know why they have to alert the entire Commonwealth every time I roll through.” She sighs, nodding in greeting to the Minutemen at the gate that snap to attention upon her arrival. “More like an invitation for trouble than anything else.”

Nora looks over her shoulder to check on the proceedings behind her—namely her guns and the unconscious caravan guard. The latter of the two is getting the ride on Ray’s back that Beth Turner never received. The guard hangs limply over Valdez’s shoulder where Ray had insisted the man would be as light as a feather. 

Looking back, she catches Valdez watching the sway of her hips. He looks up when he realizes she has caught him ogling, and where she was expecting a cheeky smile and a wink, she only gets a stare so hot and loaded with unsaid filth that she gets whiplash just to look away fast enough. _Fuck_.

“Well would you look at that!” Ronnie Shaw’s voice rings out, boisterous compared to the relative silence Nora had enjoyed on the journey back to the Castle. “Guns. Lots and lots of pretty guns.” Ronnie slaps the dawdling brahmin’s rear with a bright grin plastered on her face. She watches Sims and Gould escort the cow towards the armory before she turns back to frown at the body on Valdez’s shoulder. “Who the hell is that? Where are the caravan runners?”

“He’s it.” Nora peers up at the sun and scratches at her scalp. “Ferals got to the caravan, killed the provisioner and one of the guards.” Ronnie’s brow arches high on her forehead. “Valdez and I found this guy holed up in an apartment a couple’a blocks away.”

“Valdez, quit standin’ there with that stupid look on your face and take that man to the infirmary!” Ronnie barks before whirling on Turner and jabbing her thumb in the direction of the aforementioned building. “You too, Turner! See if the doc needs help with that mess.”

“Aye, aye.” Turner nods, pausing to give the General a salute before hurrying over to the infirmary. 

Ray grunts and hefts the man on his shoulder, a drop of sweat rolling down his hairline as his eyes dart discreetly to meet Nora’s. She looks away before he can give her another one of _those_ looks. She purses her lips as she looks off after Turner until he gets the hint and jogs to catch up with his comrade. 

“Nice job, General. Shame about those other two, though.” Ronnie gives Nora a jarring but friendly slap on the back, her eyes widening when the General sucks in a hissing breath. The older woman leans over, pulling back the shoulder of Nora’s coat and cursing at the sight of her wound. “Shit! You alright, kid?”

“A feral got the drop on me.” Nora grits out with the blossoming flame of pain that erupts down her back. 

“That doesn’t look too good, General.” Ronnie shakes her head and clucks her tongue in disapproval. She leans back and ducks her head to catch a good look at Nora’s face. “Neither do you—you best hope that zombie wasn’t diseased.”

“ _Thanks_ , Major.” Nora snaps, pushing past Shaw with her eyes zeroed in on the infirmary. _Sweet, sweet chems await_ … “Where’s Preston?”

“He’s been mooning around with that egghead all day!” Ronnie calls after her and Nora waves a hand back in dismissal, flexing the arm attached to her burning shoulder with a wince. She doesn’t want to break _that_ up, not when Preston finally got the gumption to make a move. 

Nora bursts into the infirmary, hard eyes scanning the building for a free medic. Ray looks up when she enters, his chest heaving slightly from exertion. They meet eyes briefly before Beth Turner has her hands fluttering around the General’s injured shoulder, helping Nora out of her coat and guiding her over to an empty chair where the ghoul begins her work with strong, black eyes that study the affected area sternly. 

Ten stitches and a stimpak later and the General is instructed to rest for the continuation of the day, get at least ten hours of sleep— _you are sleep deprived, ma’am_ —and finally, to avoid alcohol and any more chems during the healing process. Nora cracks a grateful smile and shakes the ghoul’s hand with a warm squeeze. 

“Thanks, Turner. You’re an artist with that needle.” 

“Er—well, thank you, General.” Turner beams quietly under the praise, biting her ruined lip as Nora shrugs back into her coat.

Nora steps back out into the heat of the July sun, feeling buzzed on dwindling adrenaline and _tired_. She smiles a bit distractedly as she begins to make her way across the courtyard, fighting the urge to sway when a strong arm suddenly winds around her waist and a hand grips her forearm to steady her. She looks up and is burned by the brown eyes that stare down into hers.

“Valdez—,” Nora frowns, looking around to see if anyone is watching. 

“Beth asked me to escort you to your quarters, ma’am.” He replies, voice low and gruff as he discreetly squeezes her waist in the hand that supports her there. 

Looking around it doesn’t seem like anyone is even paying attention to the General and the recruit. In fact, they are all wrapped up in their duties. Nora narrows her eyes, feeling like this is too good to be true, when the sudden coolness of the stone halls envelop her. She allows herself to relax against his body despite his running temperature being similar to that of the god damn _sun_. He’s big enough to run hot like a heater. 

They reach the double doors leading into her quarters and it is there in the empty halls that Ray leans into her a little too closely as she fishes around in her pack for her keys. She can hear his breathing, the slight rumble that he emits with each exhale. _Well, he’s ready, alright_. Unable to help herself, Nora leans her hip into the bulge behind his zipper and grinds the softness of her flesh into him. In response to this he bucks his hips into her hard enough to send her stumbling into the door with a hissed curse before she finally opens her quarters.

She clears her throat as she turns to him, biting her lip at the sight of his half-lidded, seething gaze. “Valdez, help me inside please.”

The door is barely shut before Nora is pushing him up against it, the force of his solid body striking the door sends it shaking dangerously. Nora’s nails dig into the back of his head to pull him down to her lips, the heat of his mouth overwhelming in her highly-sensitive state. He growls fiercely into the kiss, his hands going straight to her ass where his big hands squeeze around the generous fat there, using his grip on her as leverage to press her body into his. He bites into her bottom lip with the solid, jarring slap he lands on her asscheeks and the loud, aggressive rumble he groans out goes straight to her cunt. Nora can barely think to rein her control back in before he is pushing himself off of the door to send the pair of them stumbling blindly into the long table in the middle of the room. 

Nora lets out a near-whining sound as he devours her. He is hot and frantic and vulgar, bucking eagerly against her and trying to get as much of her as humanly possible. Ray tugs at her coat, throwing it carelessly onto the floor and tearing at the buttons on her shirt. He’s still struggling to get at her breasts when she winds her fingers into his hair and tugs his head back, hard enough to make him grunt and cause his body to stiffen in surprise against her. His arched back presents his torso beautifully to her and Nora takes a moment to watch the dips and ridges of his masculine frame beneath his thin shirt expand and collapse in the heavy breaths that rock through him.

“Knock it off, Ray.” She pants, her muscles trembling from the arousal that clouds her body. “Take a step back.”

He obeys but doesn’t look happy about it. Ray’s lips are parted and swollen from their kissing, his hair is mussed and his trousers are straining from his erection. Nora allows herself a moment’s admiration of him as he bounces a bit in place, shaking his head and shoulders as if trying to clear his mind. _It’s like déjà vu_.

“You wanna fuck me?” Nora asks quietly after a moment of observation, leaning her weight back on her palms as her legs dangle idly off the edge of the table. 

He looks up, his eyes studying her face for any sign of jest before he steps forward to settle in between her legs. One withering look from her and he clenches his fists and presses them down into the tabletop to keep from touching her—he does, however, lean forward until he is mere inches from her face. He inclines his head to the side slightly, his eyes focused on her shining, darkened lips. “You fuckin’ bet I do, ma’am.” He grins, voice deliciously hoarse and breathless. 

Nora smiles slow and crooked, her hooded eyes darting around his face until they meet his hard gaze. She reaches down between them and grips his cock through his pants, squeezing until the air leaves his lungs in a shaky sigh. She jerks him off sloppily through his trousers, sneering at him when he looks up at her with burning, frustrated eyes. “Then you’ll have to wait for it,” He looks devastated, his head falling with a groan as she quickens her pace on him. “You’re going to wait until tonight.”

Ray snaps his head back up, his eyes flying wildly around her face and taking in her smug grin with outrage slowly building behind his eyes. She watches his jaw work as he clenches his teeth. “But—that’s _hours_ from now…”

“That’s plenty of time for you to think _real fucking hard_ on how _you_ are going to make this worth my while.” Ray looks down at the finger poking into his chest, distracted enough to not pay attention as she unzips his pants. His mouth falls open in a shout from the feeling of her warm hand wrapping around his cock inside his trousers. “How’s that sound, _motherfucker_?”

“Good, ma’am, it sounds—it… _fuuuck_!” He scrambles to make sense of his words even as he crumbles in her hands, turns useless and stupid from the magic of her voice and the vulgar memories that his _unofficial title_ brings back. Frustrated and bristling with arousal, he snarls at her with his teeth bared and thrusts his hips forward against the table strongly enough to send it askew. 

Nora uses her free hand to grab his arm to steady herself before she pushes his hand against the front of her pants. He manages to get the message, frantically working with the fabric of her trousers until he has them undone and hanging low on her hips. “Touch me.”

He does—a strained, desperate sound escaping his throat and his heavy cock jumping in Nora’s grip when he feels how slick she is against his fingers. “ _Jesus_ …”

“Put your fingers inside me,” She gasps, her body buzzing. “Just for a second, I want to feel you— _oh fuck_ …”

Two of his callused fingers alone are thick enough to burn sweetly and she shakes as he pushes them into her slowly. He watches her raptly, eyes wide and dilated and his tongue swiping over his lips. Nora’s back bows as she lets her head hang back between her shoulders. She is lost in the sensation of his fingers spreading apart inside her in an experimental stretch, before he’s angling his fingers up towards her belly in a firm, rhythmic curling motion. Nora can dreamily note his free hand running up her bare thigh, his palm hot and the calluses there rough enough to scrape against her soft skin. His hand continues until it reaches her hip. Ray holds the plentiful flesh there, using it like an anchor as his fingers inside of her begin to quicken. 

Ray doesn’t seem to mind when she abandons his cock in favor of steeling her hands on his broad shoulders. As his ministrations begin to hasten Nora’s body starts to rock against the table from the strength of his arm. She spreads her legs wide, desperate for more of him and yet trying to find some sort of escape from the intense way his fingers fuck her. Sex was never enough for her without a little pain, however, so she revels in his power. He hums his approval at the sound of the sharp, short keen that shakes from her opened lips, his brow drawn in a grimace of pure concentration as he watches her orgasm build on her face. 

“That’s it, come on,” He rumbles as her body begins to twitch and burn. Nora forces her eyes open to look into his and she is jarred by the intensity of his gaze. She _won’t_ look away, won’t shy away from the awe in his eyes. She takes one hand from her grip on his shoulders to stroke the side of his face—his ear, his hair, roaming desperately with the sudden urge for intimacy as the heel of his palm grinds against her clit. “Jesus you’re fuckin’ gorgeous like this, huh?” He smiles, breathless and teeming with a bittersweet amalgam of wonder and arrogance as his eyes dart around her expression in an attempt to memorize it. 

Nora catches a glimpse of burning victory in his eyes before she squeezes hers shut and lets her taut body snap from the building pressure. The orgasm is more like a warm, rolling _relief_ in comparison to the intense, seething one that Ray gave her months ago with his head between her thighs. She is lucid enough as the glowing waves crash and pull through her—can feel Ray’s hand on her hip squeezing, can feel the fingers inside her curving upwards as she clamps around them, and can hear the way he blows out a mighty breath at the image of her coming around his hand. 

“Fuck _me_ ,” He huffs as he watches her, his eyes wide and shining in delight. Nora, coming back down from her climax, winces and pushes his hand away from her. She cocks an eyebrow, eyes glazed and half-lidded, as Ray lifts his fingers to his mouth. He sucks at them before releasing them with a wet sound and wiping his fingers off on his pants. “Wanna go again? I’d give my left friggin’ arm to eat you out right now, I swear.”

Nora laughs tiredly, eyes drifting momentarily to watch his hands running up and down the tops of her thighs. She hums out her content for a moment as he waits for a reply, leaning her head against her uninjured shoulder as her eyes travel lazily up his torso until she meets his eyes. He’s grinning at her, his teeth biting down into his bottom lip at the rare sight of her smiling up at him. Unable to help herself, Nora yawns and blinks her prickling eyes, the combination of her afterglow and the chem cocktail threatening to knock her ass out right on top of her table. 

“Later.” Nora finally says, reaching a hand up to run her fingers through his hair, letting her palm slide down the shaved side of his head. He leans into the touch, his hands running up her thighs along the thick swell of her hips and up the soft intake of her waist. “You need to report to your squad, help with inventory in the armory. _And_ give Shaw a full report.”

“A _full_ report, huh?” Ray’s sleazy voice only adds to his cheek and as always, his timber is raspy and slow, almost mocking in the way it drawls. He backs up a step and ghosts a hand over her arm in support as Nora hops off the table and onto wobbly legs. He tilts his head to the side as he watches her pull up her pants, taking a moment to tuck himself back into his trousers.

“A slightly censored report, I suppose,” Nora winces as she bends over to pick up her blue coat, flicking off specks of dirt before tossing it onto the table. She manages to find a new shirt in a nearby dresser, ignoring Ray’s eyes as she discards her ripped white blouse and dons the new one. “And, Valdez, don’t leave out the fact that you saved my life.” She catches the shift in his expression from the corner of her eye, his wide eyes and cocked brow. “That deserves recognition.”

“Nah. Was mostly that dog of yours, ma’am.” He chuckles, lips spread in an arrogant smirk as he adjusts his dick in his pants. “Y’know, I _would_ be surprised with how someone could manage to train _that_ beast but, well,” He shrugs as Nora turns to him, his eyes traveling over the length of her a bit too intensely. “It’s _you_ , so.” 

Nora’s heart skips when the door to her quarters opens suddenly. The two of them turn to see Preston panting in the doorway. He reels back slightly at the sight of Ray, blinking for a moment before looking to Nora. “General, I apologize, I didn’t realize—,”

“Valdez escorted me from the infirmary,” Nora explains with a sigh, waving a hand at Ray in dismissal. He looks between Preston and the General for a moment before clearing his throat and nodding and turning on his heel to leave. Ray brushes past Preston, casting Nora a loaded look before he disappears down the hall.

There is a moment of silence wherein Preston shuts the door behind him before turning back to Nora with a frown. 

“Before you say anything, Preston, I’m okay.”

Preston ignores her, striding across the room to take a look at her. Nora realizes after a moment that he’s looking for injuries and she sighs, pointing to her shoulder. He meets her eyes, silently asking for permission before pushing the fabric of her shirt off her shoulder until her wound is revealed. He eyes the crescent shaped stitching before blowing out a stern exhale from his nostrils. “I should have been there.”

“ _Don’t_ , Preston.” Nora groans, laying an affectionate hand on his shoulder and smiling up at him. “Listen, it was a feral and it came out of nowhere. You know how _that_ goes.” Preston nods once, his handsome face still drawn in a sulk. “I should’ve been on alert. If it weren’t for Valdez and Dogmeat, I might have been—,”

“No, you would’ve handled it, General.” Preston says firmly, reaching up to cover her hand on his shoulder with his own. “You’ll always be invincible to me.” His eyes soften as they stare down at her face, taking in her tired smile before he shakes his head. “You doubt yourself too much—but, still… That bite looks pretty bad, are you sure you’re okay?”

Nora yawns and nods, giving his shoulder a squeeze before letting her hand fall to her side. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, and a bit high. Blissfully so.”

Preston chuckles softly, attempting to escort her to her bed before Nora bats his hands away in dismissal. “I’ll say—you’re flushed.” Nora’s ears burn and her eyes cut suspiciously after Preston as he turns to leave. _He doesn’t know. He can’t_. 

He pauses near the table in the middle of the room, eyeing the way it’s shifted at one side, before inclining his head over his shoulder. “Do you trust Valdez, General?”

Nora blanks for a moment before frowning at Preston. “Why do you ask?”

Preston turns to face her, piecing together his next words carefully. He picks at a chip in the wood of her table absently before he meets her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I did, for a while. He stood out from the other recruits, for reasons other than his… uh, _physique_.” Nora looks away at that, flexing her jaw and shrugging. “His story seems to have holes in it, is all. Not to mention his attitude—which has caused more trouble than seems possible in the short amount of time that he’s been here.” Nora stares at Preston, raising a brow as she waits for the point he’s trying to make. “I only wonder about who he was before he became a Minuteman.”

“Does it matter?” Nora asks, pulling out her General’s tone. Preston notices and immediately straightens. _Am I actually getting defensive about this_?

“I suppose not, General.” Preston says, all soldier, before he relaxes a bit. “Honestly, I owe him—for helping you. And, really, I suppose all that matters now is the good he does for the Minutemen.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “ _And_ I guess it doesn’t hurt that he’s invaluable as a fighter—he’s pretty ruthless with that swatter, from what I hear.”

“Right.” Nora nods, glaring at a spot on the floor beside Preston’s boots. She clears her throat as she sits on the edge of her mattress. “Were you filled in? About the caravan, I mean.”

Preston loses his smile and his expression hardens. “Yes—it’s hard enough as it is to convince settlers to take on provisioner positions. This incident won’t help with recruitment, General.”

“Tell me about it.” Nora groans into her palms as she rubs at her face in exhaustion. “I thought I had that route clean— _fuck_.”

Preston sighs, studying his General for a long moment before he swallows and nods sternly. “I know you and I know how you operate. You wouldn’t have let a pack of ferals slide if you were aware of their presence—,”

“Doesn’t matter, Preston. I should have doubled back to escort the caravan. It was so fucking careless of me not to.” She looks down at her hands, feeling the pang of a blossoming migraine behind her drooping eyes. “It would’ve added a few days to my return, but they would have lived.” She adds quietly.

“Hindsight is 20/20, General.” He says softly, drawing her bloodshot eyes on his kind smile. “You can’t predict the future—you did your best, and that’s all we need. Trust me.”

Nora stares at him for a while, hard and unwavering—a test for honesty that Preston has long since recognized as a staple in her leadership—before her expression melts into one of pure fatigue. She nods, anything to get one step closer to the sleep that seduces her, and waves her hand in the air in a sign of dismissal. “No offense—it’s me, not you.”

“No worries. You need the rest.” Preston chuckles, watching her collapse back onto her mattress with her face hidden in the crook of her elbow. 

He smiles warmly at her form, swearing he could already hear the General snoring before he even reaches the door.


	7. Filthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut Smut Smut SMUT SMUUUTTTT

Instincts are what awaken Nora later that night. Her eyes feel heavy and swollen as she squints in the overwhelming darkness of her quarters, reaching blindly for her Pipboy on the bedside table. When the machine warbles to life she groans and squeezes her eyes shut, yawning in the bright green light until the interface loads fully. 

1:34 AM. 

_He never showed up_. 

Nora scowls into the darkness for a long moment before she flips on her Pipboy light, groaning once again at the more intense light source as she stumbles out of her warm bed. At some point in the night she had apparently stripped down to her underthings and now Nora plays the familiar yet infuriating game of: _where-did-I-put-that-fucking-sock_? It doesn’t take long to run a comb angrily through her hair and splash some water on her face, and it’s a dumbed down version of her usual ritual but it’ll do. She doesn’t intend to face the masses but instead just knock one particular head for—well, she’ll just call it _insubordination_. 

She wanders the Castle at a lazy pace, nodding to patrolling night watches and smiling at the settlers who linger around the bar—The Water Trough. The bar was originally made with the soldiers in mind, a safe haven to encourage recruits to form die-hard friendships with their comrades over drunken pledges, and for the most part it seems to have had the desired effect. But with the Castle growing larger with fertile farmland and a bustling community of civilians, the wayward settlers who have taken up residence have been welcomed into The Water Trough. She can spot a few familiar faces through the windows, adorned with red-cheeks and eyes swimming with laughter loud enough to echo in the open air. She doesn’t spot Ray, surprisingly enough. 

Disinclined to bring herself to join them and abandon her search, Nora turns for the front gates. She approaches the stairs leading up to the top of the wall, hugging her heavy blue coat closely to her body once the silence envelops her. Watches at this part of the wall are considered a skeleton crew compared to other parts of the Castle—truthfully they are almost nonexistent, seeing as the front gates are heavily armed with advanced turrets and blaring spotlights. Because of this it is one of Nora’s favorite late night haunts—there’s nothing quite like the combination of solitude and the promise of unerring security, thanks to the metal muscle of maybe one too many turrets. 

Nora looks around for any Minutemen on watch, only able to make out the steadfast shadows of the artillery operators at the far corners of the wall. She cups her hands to her lips and blows hot breath into her palms before ducking into the one of the single-room sniper’s nests built specifically for the wall’s guard. 

There is a lone man on watch sitting near the window in a large arm chair, long legs propped up on the window’s ledge and an arm balancing by the elbow on the arm rest of the chair, a lit cigarette pinched between two knuckles. She is almost unbelieving of her luck, for she instantly recognizes the shape of the man without having to see his face. If she didn’t catch the way one of his large feet bounces restlessly, she would have thought Ray Valdez to be asleep at his post. But no, only inappropriately slacking in his duty. 

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she watches him in silence for a moment. From behind he could be Nate, she realizes. Her late husband was of a similar complexion and build to Valdez, and despite a difference in haircut they possessed the same thick black hair. She crosses her arms over her suddenly aching chest, swallowing at the knot in her throat as she chases those unwelcome thoughts from her mind. 

Ray begins to whistle an annoying tune that plays far too often on Diamond City radio and Nora chooses that moment to clear her throat. Ray inclines his head over his shoulder just enough to throw a mildly inquiring look at the intruder, obviously expecting someone of little interest. His eyes widen a touch when he takes in the sight of the General, a single brow rising on his forehead as he gives her a once over. 

“Hi.” He draws the word out—an infuriating spark of mocking in his voice—before his mouth quirks in a lopsided grin that looks like it’s straight out of a pre-war ad, sparkling eyes and all. 

Nora’s gaze narrows but he just keeps on smiling. “What the hell are you doing here?” Ray’s brow draws downward in confusion, his eyes looking around in question before he shrugs—as if he had apparated to that very spot not of his own volition. “You aren’t assigned to watch duty.” She explains further.

“Oh!” He nods, his easy smile returning. He twirls his cigarette between his fingertips absently before taking a deep drag and squinting thoughtfully on the exhale. “Yeah, well—long story short, General?”

“How about the full story.”

He blinks at the tartness in her tone before laughing softly. “Right—okay, okay. So, Hammond—the fella who is _supposed_ to be on watch right now—well… he ate a _bad_ can of meat.”

“Right.” Nora fake smiles, walking across the small space until she can lean against the set of drawers beside the window. In the warmth of the lantern light Ray’s dark skin glows beautifully, the orange light softening him and making his chocolate eyes shine. She blinks at the sight. 

“He promised he’d be done soon, but I figured you can’t put a timer on _that_ sort of emergency. If you know what I mean.” Ray simpers with a shrug. “Besides, ma’am, _you_ never told me what time to… uh, _come_ to your quarters. So.” He nearly fidgets with glee under her bewildered glare. 

“Keep your voice down!” She hisses, leaning forward to look out the entrance of the sniper’s nest. 

“ _Aye ma’am_!” He stage whispers, giving her a jaunty salute as he pushes his feet against the window ledge to lean back in his chair. 

“It is more than a little concerning that a member of the watch would get a _recruit_ to cover him.” She sighs, looking Ray’s lounging form up and down. “I’ll have to deal with that fault in judgment.”

“Yeah, _sure_ General, like anyone can make it through the friggin’ arsenal you got up there.” Ray nods to the roof above him where a laser turret and a spotlight are posted. “You don’t even need nobody up here, practically, with how much heat you got on this wall. Trust me on that.” 

“There might as well be _nobody_ at this post, with the extent of your attention span.” Nora grumbles, ignoring his light laugh of what sounded suspiciously like agreement. “How long has Hammond been gone?”

“Why? You gettin’ antsy?” Ray rumbles, drawing Nora’s attention. He’s looking at her from beneath his brow as he sinks down comfortably in his chair, eyes flashing in the light of the lantern as Nora’s ears heat up. 

The two of them share a challenging stare, eyes locked in a silent, heated dare. She inclines her head to the side very slightly, an eyebrow twitching on her forehead as curling heat tickles up the nape of her neck. She pushes off from the metal drawers, making her way over to Ray with a few slow sways of her hips. He lets his feet fall loudly to the floor as she approaches, his knees spread so that she can step in between his legs. She leans down to meet his eyes levelly, her hands reaching out to grip the armrests of the chair—effectively boxing Ray in. His lips fall open as if to say something, but he seems entranced and almost afraid to make a sound, as if she would sense his vulnerability and leave him wanting. She lets him writhe in this doubt for a few moments, relishing in the discovery of her ability to make this man speechless.

“Maybe I am...” Nora says, voice quiet and laced with a taunt. She leans in closer whilst lifting her foot up, pressing the ball of her foot down against the seat of his chair between his legs. Ray looks down at this in a comical mixture of unease and sparkling intrigue, letting out a breathy grunt as she pushes her leg forward to run the top of her booted foot against his groin. Despite the instinctual fear he feels at the dangerous position, he cradles her ankle in his large palm, rubbing a circle into the leather of her boot with his thumb.

He hums deeply in his chest and closes his eyes as she begins to press her foot harder against him, clenching his fists restlessly before folding his arms behind his head in a stretch. He rolls his hips up into her foot, firmly enough to make heat burn up Nora’s cheeks. “Aw shit,” He laughs breathlessly, scrunching his face up in a grimace before his expression melts into a handsome smile. “You’re a tease, huh?”

“Oh, honey,” Nora rolls her head back in a soundless laugh before leaning down to ghost her lips against the corner of his mouth. “If _this_ is too much for you then I’m afraid to imagine how you’ll fare tonight.”

Ray wrenches a yelp from Nora when he reaches around to give her ass a spiteful slap that’s hard enough to rock her forward until she has to brace her hands on his shoulders to keep from colliding with him. He presses his lips to her ear, breath hot and ticklish against the side of her neck. “How about I show you just how fuckin’ ready I am, huh?” 

He grabs one of her hands and presses his mouth to the delicate inside of her wrist, tongue tracing a devilish circle against the skin there before he tugs her arm down until her hand is cupping his erection. They both let out a small sound in unison at the contact and Nora can’t help but squeeze the cock in her grip. _That’s thick, Christ_. 

Mind gone, thoughts hazy and stupid with lust, Nora releases him to stride across the room to close the door and hitch a chair underneath the doorknob. Ray observes this with bright eyes just moments before she’s back at him like a storm, unzipping his trousers and yanking them down his hips hard enough to wrench him forward bodily. He lets out a growling hum of approval at her earnest as his eyes follow her movements when she shimmies out of her own pants. Her underwear is barely past her thighs before she falls to her knees in front of him, her light eyes darting up to watch his expression as she presses her tongue against the base of his heavy cock. He bites his lip through the grin that spreads across his face, his eyes wide and teeming in awe as she laves her tongue along the length of him. 

Once he’s shining with her spit she stands up, turning around to settle her ass snugly in his lap. While she rolls her hips against him, rubbing the length of him along her clit, he wraps his arms around Nora to keep her from tipping forward as he leans down to tug her pants off her legs until they are hanging on one of her ankles. He collapses back into the chair, letting out a filthy rumble of a laugh in her ear as she lifts her ass up to press the wide head of his dick against her opening. “Quit teasin’ me. I haven’t been laid in for fuckin’ ever.”

“Saving yourself for me?” Nora grins at him over her shoulder, rolling her hips in captivating circles but not allowing more than the tip of him inside her. 

“So what if I was?” He challenges, unable to tear his eyes away from her thick ass making figure eights on the head of his cock. “You haven’t, General?”

“Sorry—not on your life, sugar.” She breathes, allowing him to push her down with his hands gripping two handfuls of her hips. Her eyes roll back into her head at the sweet, _sweet_ sting from his girth stretching her. The sound of his vulgar, restless groan is arousing enough to make her pussy clench in a hard pulse on him. “Though I missed _this_.”

Nora lets her body melt back against his chest, her movements languorous and her skin burning from the great heat of his strong body. She nuzzles her nose behind his ear as she begins to roll her hips down into his lap, creating a pang of bittersweet pressure inside her from the deep angle that he reaches. She moves to the rhythm of his chest rising and falling against her back, to the sound of his breathing that turns labored and shaken. A heavy shiver runs through him as she whispers a sigh into his neck, his hands clenching into fists strongly enough to turn his scarred knuckles white.

“Ah-ah…” Nora scolds with a soft smile when he tries to buck his hips up into her. She lifts her hips to escape the thrust, balancing on the head of his cock until he gasps out a plea for her to sink back down onto him. She does, rolling her back and abdominal muscles to create a delicious winding friction that knocks the air from Ray’s lungs. Nora begins to circle her hips harder into his lap, pressing him deeper inside her with each pass.

Ray finds himself relaxing under her control, slowly but surely. He rolls his head against the back of his chair to press his nose into her hair, inhaling a large breath in an attempt to gain some semblance of stability as she continues to writhe down onto his dick. 

“Mm—you okay?” Her voice alone makes his cock jump inside her. 

“ _Yes_.” He swallows audibly as he reaches a hand up to twist her head until she faces him while his other hand squeezes her clothed breast firmly. Nora bites her lip and smirks at the scowl in his expression. His eyes squeeze shut as she begins to roll her hips in an outwards motion, causing him to rub against a new spot inside her that forces a beautiful gasp from her. “No, actually, I’m not. Let me fuck you, _right now_ , or I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.”

“No way, fuck off.” Nora laughs softly, wickedly, and pulls away from his face as he blows a maddened sigh from his flared nostrils. “Isn’t this enough?”

His only reply is a broken sound wrenched from his chest when she bottoms him out inside her, pressing her whole weight down into his lap and grinding herself in fast little circles. She winces as he continually bumps her cervix but finds that small ache to be a lovely satisfaction amidst the near numbing stretch of his size. 

Ray hisses, grimacing and letting his head fall against the back of the chair as she begins to bounce on him. He presses the heels of his palms into his closed eyes and lets out a long growl, the sound jostled by the near-aggressive slap of her ass on his thighs. The pressure of her around him changes and he peeks through the cracks in his fingers to see her leaning forward with her hands braced on his knees. His mouth falls open dumbly at the view of her, swallowing thickly and running his callused palms over the handprint on her ass. “ _Fuck_ , querida, that’s beautiful.”

“Hit me again.” She pants over her shoulder, wincing and chuckling blissfully when he obeys immediately with a smack on her ass that fixes her with an imprint to match the other one. Nora reaches back, grabbing one of his hands and bringing his fingers to her lips. He hisses in an almost wounded gasp when she wraps her lips around two of his fingers and begins to suck and swirl her tongue against his knuckles. 

Ray whimpers, bucking his hips up into her once as she quickens her pace. His eyes flutter shut as she begins to twist her hips up and down him. “I ain’t gonna last if you keep doin’ that—,”

“That’s the point.” She huffs around his thick fingers, thighs beginning to cramp from the exertion but finding herself singularly driven by the noises he is making behind her. “You better come fast, motherfucker, before we get caught—,”

Ray gulps, his stare zeroed in hotly on their point of joining as the madness builds behind his eyes. His hands splay across her hips and his fingers graze the dimples in her back, gripping her with bruising force as he begins to pull her down onto him with each time he thrusts up into her. Nora gasps and scrambles to steady herself from his sudden energy, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with the pace—he growls impatiently, half-lidded eyes scanning the room quickly. 

Nora’s eyes widen from the sudden strength with which she is propelled forward when Ray abruptly stands from the chair with his hands steadying her hips, keeping himself buried inside her. He walks the two of them forward forcibly until she is bent over the edge of the set of drawers that is pushed up against the window. Nora grips the window’s edge with a gasp to gain some purchase, wincing and cursing as a box of .308 bullets is knocked to the floor and bursts open noisily. She turns her head to her right, eyes scanning the windows of the opposite sniper’s nest and catching sight of a woman on watch with her eyes glued to a pair of binoculars.

“Ah, fuck that’s better.” Ray huffs from behind Nora—unknowing of the precarious situation that the two of them are in. He bucks his hips forward hard enough to shake the squeaky metal drawers in their frame, forcing a winded groan from Nora. 

Her eyes flutter shut momentarily—against her better judgment—as Ray picks up a frantic, jarring rhythm that is dangerously noisy, the contents of the drawers clattering about. She presses her forehead down against the cool metal and arches her back, pressing her ass back tightly against him to seek his thrusts as his hands come down to brace on either side of her head. Nora knows the pace of a man desperate for release, can recognize it in the hardness of his breath and the way his fingers flex and spasm against the surface beneath his hands. She twists her hips back to meet the jerking thrusts that he works into her, relishing in the moan that rumbles in his chest. It isn’t long before she feels him pull out abruptly with a strained grunt, the warm lines of his semen rolling down the curve of her ass and into the fabric of his jeans.

After a few long moments of listening to his breathing, Nora can sense Ray leaning down over her body. She feels the warmth of his mouth on her shoulder blade pressing a kiss to her skin that is equal parts soft from his tongue and scratchy from his stubble. She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back a pleased sigh as she turns her flushed face towards the approaching icy breeze that rides on the back of the ocean waves. She opens her eyes sluggishly only to gasp in horror as she notices the watch in the opposite sniper’s nest beginning to rotate her binoculars towards the window that Nora is nearly hanging out of. 

“Shit!” She hisses, pushing up from the metal surface and nearly knocking into Ray’s face as she scrambles to get out of sight.

“Whoa!” He laughs breathlessly as Nora molds her back against him and pushes off from the drawers to send the two of them stumbling backwards. Ray catches their combined weight as the back of his legs hit the chair where this all started, grunting when Nora falls back into his lap inelegantly and lands a bit roughly on his stomach. “Fuckin’ watch it, will ya?” 

Nora sighs in relief and settles her trembling legs as she slumps back against his chest, sweaty and panting with a satisfied grin slapped across her face. Nora can feel his heart hammering against her shoulder as she presses her face into the side of his damp neck. She smiles faintly at the feeling of his throat working in a heavy swallow.

“You didn’t come.” Ray rasps out after a few beats of silence, watching with half-lidded eyes as Nora rises gingerly from his lap to pull her pants up. She wordlessly helps him get his trousers on, zipping them up for him and shifting her eyes to meet his gaze. 

“Not yet.” Nora deadpans, watching as his eyes begin to brighten with comprehension. She winks mischievously at him. 

“Give me twenty minutes, ma’am, and I’ll change that.” He answers with an adorable sort of breathlessness. Despite his boyish enthusiasm there is a promise in his hoarse voice that sends heat gushing through her body. She leans forward to press her lips against his warm mouth, swallowing the sound of content that he sighs into her. Nora pulls away just as he reaches a hand up to touch her cheek, leaning away with a swipe of her tongue along his bottom lip.

“If you’re late again, your ass is fucking _grass_.” She warns, giving his cheek a light teasing slap that makes him shiver and grin in delight. _Hm, that’s interesting_. 

Ray roars out a grunt in a full body stretch, peeking discreetly at Nora to watch her walk out. “ _Man_ … I don’t know what that means, but it sounds bad.” 

She pauses at the door after removing the chair and kicking it out of the way, turning at the waist to give him the kind of over-the-shoulder look that calls to mind endless pre-war nudie magazines. None of those chicks had _that_ stare, though—that steely, imposing stare that goes straight to his groin. 

“See you soon, Valdez.” She smiles slowly, voice rich and strong. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He holds her eyes until the door slams shut, leaving him staring at the wood where she once stood. 

 

Nora is settled in her quarters for barely ten minutes before there is a fist pounding obnoxiously at her door. She whips her head up from her pipboy to glare across the room at the offending sound, clenching her jaw as she pushes off from her seat at the table in the middle of the room. 

“What the fuck—,” She yanks the door open to reveal Ray’s shit-eating grin, bright and toothy and wild. He doesn’t have time to utter a word before she grabs a fist full of his shirt to yank him inside. 

“You look _pissed_ , Christ.” He’s on her as soon as the lock is set, burying his cold nose in her hair and breathing in deeply as he covers her in his huge body. His arms, corded with the muscle of a man who hasn’t stopped fighting a day in his life, secure her in the seething heat inside his coat.

“Why do you have to knock like that?” She elbows him off of her, turning around in his grip to glare up at him before breezing past him towards her bed. 

“That’s how I always knock.” Ray sniffs and shrugs his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets and taking a moment to look around the large room as she removes the pipboy from her arm. He whistles low as he spots the fully stocked liquor cabinet, sauntering over to flick a short fingernail against the aged glass case. “You’re loaded, General.”

Nora rubs at her arm where her pipboy had left indentations in her skin, wincing slightly before looking up to watch Ray. He’s leaning in close to the glass of the cabinet, presumably trying to make out what kind of booze she keeps on hand. Her eyes travel over his tall frame—he’s got to be as tall as Danse, sheesh—and down the length of his strong legs. His big feet jut out from the end of his pant legs with boots that are more dirt than shoe. Shifting her gaze, she can just make out the curve of a cute butt and tapered hips. His clothing obscures any further observations, unfortunately.

“Take off your jacket.” Nora says, the demand possessing enough softness to allow for an out. This isn’t like Libertalia, charged by aggression and pure arousal. She knows this man now, knows his name and some of his story—she hasn’t decided yet if that is disastrous. 

Ray turns his head at the sound of her voice, a faint smile touching his lips as he begins to shrug out of his Minuteman’s coat. He looks around his immediate vicinity for a place to hang the piece of clothing before shrugging and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Now your shirt.”

Ray holds her eyes as his hands make quick work of the buttons on the faded blue shirt, baring his teeth in something between a lecherous sneer and an endearing grin once he is bare-chested. Nora swallows subtly at the sight of him—amber skin glowing with health and youth despite the many scars and scrawling tattoos that litter his torso and the muscles that are hard and sculpted with a touch of healthy body fat that adds to the bear-like quality he radiates. He has long arms that taper off into sturdy forearms with pronounced veins and a lovely dusting of dark arm hair. She eyes his hands, appreciating his subconscious habit of clenching his fists when under her observation. His knuckles are perhaps permanently pinkish and tight with scars that have layered on top of each other after years of many, many fights. His hands are rough and wide, bringing to mind the handprints currently marking her.

Nora crosses the room in a slow stride, pressing her palms flat on Ray’s chest once she reaches him. She traces the lines of his pectorals, enjoying the sound their skin contact makes as she caresses him. He watches her closely, curiously, but doesn’t move. He only breathes quietly—albeit with a slightly increased pace—as she ghosts her fingers along the rounded angles of his broad shoulders. She leans forward to press her lips against his sternum as her nails scrape feather light down the ridges of his abdominal muscles, scratching at the line of black hair that trails down to disappear beneath his jeans. 

Ray lets out a frustrated sound, almost like a whimper, and clenches his fists hard. “Jesus, ma’am, I—,”

“Quiet.” Nora interrupts, voice soft and not unkind. She looks up into his confused gaze, reaching a hand up to press her index finger gently against the pout of his bottom lip. “Hasn’t someone touched you like this before?”

He frowns, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “No.” He admits in a gust of breath. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

She smiles when his eyes widen slightly and he earnestly shakes his head. “Are you fuckin’ nuts?”

“Well then—you’re a fine man and I want to enjoy you. So stay still.” She nearly whispers, leaning forward to curl her tongue against the hot skin of his right pectoral. He hisses in a breath, hovering his hands over her arms as if he wishes nothing more than to touch her. She nips at the skin and he groans low in his throat. “How old are you anyway, Ray?”

“Don’t know.” He rasps, clearing his throat and flashing a small smile when she arches an eyebrow. “Not too young for you.” He adds with a laugh.

“I’d beg to differ.” She sighs, kissing the bruise she inflicted with her bite before running her hands up the length of his arms. “When’s your birthday, then? Hm?”

“Eh, don’t know that either.” He snorts when he notices Nora’s mild dismay. “What’s _that_ look?”

“You’ve never had a _birthday_?” She hushes with her head tilted in unintentional sympathy, brushing her fingertips down the prominent scar stretching down the side of his face. Ray’s eyes dash around her expression, his brow furrowed in confusion. _He doesn’t know any better_.

“Things were different for you.” He states more than guesses, and she nods. Ray simpers down at her, reaching up to encase her hand in his. He pulls her hand to his mouth where he presses a kiss to the center of her palm. “Hey it’s no skin off my nose.”

“Hm.” Nora frowns slightly, taking her hand from his to toy with the top button of his jeans. “I suppose none of those things matter anymore.”

“Not to me, at least. No time for birthdays.” He shrugs, his voice wavering when she begins to kiss down his torso past his navel. “Hey, speakin’ of age—ain’t you like… Two hundred years old?”

“More like two hundred and forty-something.” Nora smirks up at him from down on her knees, running her hands up and down his sides. He is straining against his jeans, the fabric outlining his hard cock fetchingly. She rubs her cheek along the ridge of his erection, tapping her fingernails down his torso until they reach his zipper to release him. 

As soon as his erection is freed Nora has her hands on it greedily, testing the heavy weight of it in her palm before leaning forward to press her lips against the velvety skin. He nearly sobs when she traces her tongue along a bulging vein running up his cock. “Christ, you look fuckin’ _great_ down there, General.”

She pinches his hip for his nerve even as she works inches of him into her stretching throat, inevitably gagging at the girth and drawing back from him with watering eyes. “ _Ah_ , that’s lovely.”

“ _Man_ , you are somethin’ else.” Ray bites into his lower lip as he watches her take his cock back between her lips. His eyes squeeze shut when she rolls her tongue underneath the over-sensitive head in sweet little patterns that spark bright spots behind his lids. “ _Ahhh_ —fuck it, I might need a second.”

“Mm, sorry.” Nora hums, pressing a kiss to the crown of his dick before getting back on her feet. She grabs his hand and leads him towards her bed, pushing him until he sits down at the edge of the mattress. 

It doesn’t take a genius to pick up on her silent request when she turns her nose up at his filthy boots. He leans over and yanks them off with a grunt before tossing them aside. With a few tugs Nora has his pants and underwear off, letting them fall to the floor as she takes in his naked figure in its entirety.

She is reminded of the striking ancient nude statues adorning museums back before the war. Ray was too rugged and a bit too large to be, say, a David. He was perhaps a Perseus or a Hercules. Hard and masculine and breathtaking. Outside of the Brotherhood and _maybe_ the Gunners, Nora hadn’t seen too many men built like Ray. She thinks back to a comment made by Ronnie, on what exactly Baja tribals were fed to make such a fine specimen. _A diet of deathclaws, eh_?

“You are mouthwatering.” Nora purrs, eyeing the way his cock juts up stubbornly to rest against his stomach. “Are all of these ‘tribals’ as big as you?”

“Don’t know. Don’t remember.” He watches her approach with eyes rapt with anticipation. “My dad was a big fucker.”

“That makes sense.” She hums quietly, stopping short in front of him to let her coat slide off her shoulders. Ray breathes in deeply when she begins to undress, revealing inch after inch of her chest as she removes her white button up and lets the blouse fall off her shoulders. His eyes go straight for her breasts, full in her tattered bra. Her—former—injury is tight and pink, nearly healed thanks to the stimpak, and he spares the developing scar a thoughtful look before focusing back on her tits. 

“I went to Todos los Santos the summer I turned twenty one, with my—well, my husband.” He looks up into her eyes with a slight frown, studying her face long enough to guess that her husband isn’t around in one way or another. “It was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

“All Saints.” Ray mumbles, shrugging when she looks at him with a mildly fascinated smile. “That’s what that name means.”

“You speak Spanish.” Nora kicks off her pants, standing nearly nude before him. He weighs his head from side to side in a noncommittal answer, eyes running down the length of her body. 

“Si.” He grins and she chuckles. “That’s all my ma spoke, she knew like four fuckin’ words in English. Dad was an NCR ranger who picked up a little tribal broad when he needed some trim.”

Lots of terms go over Nora’s head these days, including ‘NCR’. She chooses not to pry and instead closes the distance between them until she is leaning against his knees.

“Spanish is a beautiful language, Ray. I’m glad it’s still around.” He couldn’t know the feelings the language ignites for her, _the memories_ —Nate’s family in Mexico, kind and loving and loud, welcoming her into their home with foreign, rolling words too lovely and too sweet. One of the things Nora had mourned the most about her husband’s death was the idea that her son would grow up without truly knowing his father’s culture, _his_ culture.

Ray smiles and narrows his eyes in his observation of her thoughtful expression, seeming to be thinking something over. He grips her biceps, giving them an affectionate squeeze before trailing his touch up to hold her neck in his hands. 

“Tu eres _muy_ hermosa, senora.” He nearly purrs, and Nora feels a delicious clench of arousal between her legs and a rush of sweet warmth in her heart. _Oh no_ … “Usted no habla español. Puedo decir lo que quiera.” He almost giggles as he looks up at her with eyes that sparkle with mischief. 

He slides his hands down to her shoulders where he plucks at the straps of her bra, looking into her eyes for a brief moment before pulling them down her arms. Ray groans when her breasts are exposed, his breath coming a bit short when he leans forward to dive head first into her tits. Nora would laugh if not for the trance she is in, listening to his sounds from the cushion of her chest. “Me encanta éstos, por dios…” 

“Wow that’s—beautiful…” Nora swallows heavily, gasping when he takes a nipple into his mouth after kissing up the curve of her breast. His hands slide along her ribs, blunt nails scraping over the bony ridges gently before smoothing up her back to unhook her bra and toss it blindly across the room. With his hands splayed along her spine he forces her to arch further into his mouth. She runs her nails along his shoulders and up into his hair, gripping handfuls and holding him to her breast with a soft sigh of bliss. 

“Te gusta eso, querida?” He hums in question after releasing her from his lips, tipping his head back to beam contentedly up at her. She exhales a hard laugh, looking down into his delightful brown eyes while smoothing his hair against his head. 

“Something tells me I’m not the first person you’ve seduced this way.” Nora tugs at his scalp for emphasis, drawing a wince and a dazzling grin from Ray. 

“Guilty.” His responding chuckle is strained from the angle that his neck is pulled into by her grip, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his exposed throat as she hums admiringly. 

Running the tip of her tongue along his unprotected neck Nora can taste the salt of his sweat, heated and decadent. She presses her bruised lips softly against the rolling beat of his pulse, her fingers loosening in his hair to smooth down his back. She lifts her legs up to straddle his lap, brushing her bare thighs along his in the process. 

Rays hands instantly go to her ass, cradling the thickness of her and sinking his fingers into it. The next breath that comes from his mouth is shaken—he is absolutely enthralled by the kisses and licks that Nora traces down his clavicle, the calculated patience and burning hunger that she shows him is dizzying. He rocks his hips up against her, his cock rutting against her stomach, and he can feel her smile against his skin. “I’m losin’ my mind here.”

Nora wraps a hand around Ray’s neck, watching the flash of aching anticipation shine behind his eyes when she tightens her grip. She tilts her head in her careful observation of his delight as she maintains her grip, flexing her fingers into his strong neck before rocking her hips forward to grind against his dick. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as she begins to slowly move over him, gradually using her grip around his neck to push him down onto the mattress until he is on his back. 

An idea sparks in Nora and she bites back her anticipating smile, releasing Ray’s throat after pressing a lingering kiss to his parted lips. She shimmies out of her underwear after some careful maneuvering before crawling up his body. His eyes follow hers, only leaving her gaze momentarily to watch her naked form moving over him before she settles with her knees on either side of his head with her hand anchored in his hair.

Nora shivers at the feeling of his breath hot against her cunt, her body tingling with arousal at the sight of his strikingly dark eyes peeking up at her from between her thighs. He bares his teeth at her in a wild sort of grin as his hands come up to grip her hips and force her to sit down on his face. She lets out a small, surprised noise that ends in a hoarse cry when she feels his tongue curling up her slit to circle her nub. A muffled growl of what sounds like appreciation vibrates against her pussy and Nora’s mouth falls open in a daze. He doesn’t eat her out as much as devour her, his fingers sinking into her asscheeks as leverage to grind her hips down against his face. She is pressed tightly enough against him to guess that he can’t breathe and maintains that pressure just long enough to see his face begin to redden. Holding his head down by his hair, Nora lifts herself off him to allow him to breathe. He exhales a heavy, dazed laugh, closing his eyes as his chest heaves before looking up at her beneath heavy lids. 

“I could’ve held out longer.” He pants, licking his lips with his eyes zeroed in on her pussy. 

“I know that much from experience.” Nora murmurs and he laughs a bit louder and winks up at her, giving her ass a near-bruising squeeze. “You like to be roughed up, huh?”

“I live for it.” He sighs a bit dreamily, attempting to lean up to lick at her. The grip she has on his hair stops him and his tongue arches just inches from her slit. He grunts impatiently. “Never known anything else, ma’am, and I wouldn’t have it any other fuckin’ way.” He takes a deep, steadying breath as he settles his head back against her mattress, studying her face thoughtfully for a moment before smiling impishly. “I think you like it like that too, yeah querida?”

“I suppose I do.” She whispers as she lowers herself back onto his face. He hums his thanks against her heat and sucks her clit between his lips with a loud, wet sound that makes her fingers flex in his hair. Nora lets out a breathless laugh when he sighs out a loud groan and rubs his face fiercely against her, smearing her wetness across his face like war paint before he curls his strong tongue up inside her. “Oh shit,” Nora sobs, releasing her hold on his hair to lean forward and brace her hands on the mattress above his head. Ray slaps three quick hits against her ass and a masculine sound reverberates in his chest when she begins to rut her hips down against his face. He curls an arm around her thigh to press his fingers against her clit, rolling the pads of his fingers in tight little circles that send red-hot pressure coiling tightly inside her. 

“Oh—my fucking _god_.” Nora grits out, fighting the urge to arch her back as her thighs begin to tremble from the desperation to come. “Almost, _almost_ —,”

Ray sucks her nub back into his mouth hard enough to make her flinch and a cry is wrenched from her lips when that ache sends her falling over the edge, pressure swelling behind her eyes as her mind blanks. She can hear herself keening loudly but can’t hold it back, her hips jerking frantically down into his mouth to chase every last second. 

Nora nearly falls forward once she comes back to herself, but an insistent tapping on her hip alerts her to the fact that Ray is still trapped beneath her thighs. She rolls off him instantly and listens to the deep, gasping breath that he sucks in, his arms falling down against the mattress to stretch out on either side of him. His eyes are closed as he blindly feels across the bed for her without moving from his place, a quirk of a smile touching the corner of his mouth when his hand curls around the back of her knee.

After an impressively short amount of time he seems to have recovered, pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing her other leg to yank her body down the bed until she is pressed against him. Nora stretches her legs up to press her feet flat against his chest, arching an eyebrow up at him as his fingers begin to knead down her calf towards her ankle. 

Nora sighs, eyes bright as she watches him lift her foot to press a kiss to the arch. “I’m surprised you didn’t suffocate.”

“I wouldn’t mind goin’ out like that, General.” He raises his eyebrows at her but his eyes are all sin, staring intently down at her while his tongue traces along the ball of her foot to press a soft kiss to the pad of her big toe. “It’d be an honor, with thighs like these.” His free hand caresses down the slope of her knee to squeeze the flesh of her thigh in emphasis, his teeth nipping at her toe. “Never seen a body like yours, ma’am—must be a pre-war thing.”

“Must be.” Nora smirks and props herself up onto her elbows to watch him suck her toe into his mouth. She manages to bite back a giggle but he notices her ticklishness anyway, releasing her toe to nip at the arch of her foot. She squirms a little bit and lets her other leg fall against the mattress, effectively revealing herself to him. His eyes fall to look between her legs even as he presses a wet kiss against her ankle, grimacing in arousal and groaning as he watches her fingers begin to circle her clit. He exhales deeply as Nora touches herself, leaning his cheek against her ankle and rubbing his thumb distractedly against the ball of her foot. His cock twitches against her leg when she lets out a soft sigh. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” He whines, his eyes unwavering from her lazy ministrations as he begins to stroke himself slowly. “Mmm— _fuck_ , I can’t think straight.”

Nora pulls her leg away from him and flips over onto her hands and knees, glancing over her shoulder at him and shaking her ass back at him just to wrench another wounded sound from his chest. She yelps in surprise when Ray suddenly lunges for her, pinning her down flat on her stomach on the mattress and covering her body with his large frame. The weight of him crushes her pleasantly into the mattress and Nora purrs at the lovely feeling of sweet vulnerability. It is a strange feeling, the kind that she normally wouldn’t allow herself to indulge in—the intimacy of it is almost as foreign to Nora as it is to momentarily let go of her dominance. She allows it with a small smile on her lips.

She watches him lean up from her back, holding her down by sitting on her thighs. He curls his hands around her hips and hoists her ass up into the air, pressing her head back down against the bed when she attempts to hold herself up. 

Nora’s face flushes from the heat that his sudden control sparks deep within her and she can’t help but wantonly shake her ass at him in invitation. He bites her butt cheek in response as he leans back up, one hand holding her hip in place while the other guides his cock inside her. Nora winces at the stretch but shivers in delight at the ensuing burn, rolling her hips in a circle back against his hips until he is buried to the hilt inside her. He hums behind her to steady himself, flexing his fingers into her hip as he pulls back to press a hard thrust into her that wrenches a hiss from her lips. 

“Come on, motherfucker.” Nora growls back at him impatiently from where he holds her head down against the bed with his hand grabbing a fistful of her hair. Her demand clicks with something dangerous in his head and he blanks for a moment from the arousal that shocks through him before he obediently rocks her with a push that steals her breath away.

Ray begins to drive his hips against her in a jolting rhythm that has Nora squirming and shaking from his intensity—nearly desperate to gain the upper hand but unable to stop herself from chasing his dominant thrusts. It’s a perfect fusion of blinding intensity—bordering on pain—and deeply satisfying penetration that has her near speechless and shouting out a groan into the sheets beneath her. She’s chanting something, she’s aware, but she’s unable to decipher more than _yes, yes, yes_. She needs some kind of purchase and wants _desperately_ to spread her legs widely for him, but this position bends her in a way that makes all sensations pinpoint deeply inside her, somewhere near her cervix, and her eyes roll back into her head from the plane of near stupor that she teeters on.

A wonderfully wet sensation follows along the curve of her spine and Nora realizes that he is licking down her back. He reaches her ear just as one of his hands wedges under her and in between her breasts to wrap his fingers around her neck. He squeezes her throat experimentally in his grasp—a request for permission—and she nods desperately and pushes her ass back as hard as she can against him, frantic to take as much as she can of him. 

“You want it, huh?” He purrs in her ear, filthy and gruff and dark with a taunt as he tugs on her hair until her cheek is pressed tightly against his. Nora grunts when his hand begins to tighten around her neck, slowly cutting off her airflow and causing a burst of white lights to shine behind her eyes. Her awareness narrows down to surround him, _only him_ , as he continues to press her down into the mattress in the kind of rhythm that is evidence to his loss of patience. 

“ _Yes_ … Touch me, now! I want to come—,” Nora wheezes, her usually deep tone taking on a depraved sort of quality that only seems to spur Ray on harder. He squeezes her throat as he bottoms out inside her, pressing his hips tightly against her as his hand releases her hair to slide down along her stomach to roll his fingers against her clit. He works against her quickly and it’s just what she needs to match the beautiful ache inside her as he fucks her down into the mattress. Nora squeezes her eyes shut as the short, over-sensitive orgasm rattles her, her thighs trembling and her back arching up against him as his hand flexes around her throat. She lets out sob as her legs tremble and burn from the exertion, threatening to give out underneath her from his weight pressing into her. 

Ray releases her throat to run his blunt nails pleasantly down her back until he grips her bowing hips, easily turning her over until she’s flat on her back. Her eyes are warm and dazed, staring up at the ceiling as Ray leans over her to lick the sweat off her soft stomach. He wraps a hand around the back of her knee to spread her legs wide enough to settle his hips between them, pushing more easily into her this time in a rolling thrust that is as languid as it is deep. Nora hums in appreciation, fighting the urge to wrap her legs around his back in order to rest her sore thighs. He presses wet kisses across her ribs before reaching the underside of her breast, sliding his tongue along the round swell as his back bows in another thrust that is deep enough to make her back arch. 

When his tongue presses a long, flat lick against her nipple only to take it into his mouth, sucking hard on her breast, Nora feels a dizzying rush of ecstasy that makes her mouth dry. “You feel _so good_.” She whispers to him, her tone bordering on reverent as he begins to roll his hips down in a seemingly never-ending, fluid pulse that makes his abdominal muscles bunch against her body with every push inside her. She wishes she could see his body working into her, but the eyes that cut up to her from her breast are too intense to look away from. He releases her breast from his mouth, his teeth looking dangerous behind the grin he shows her.

Ray snakes an arm underneath her to cradle the back of her head in his wide palm, angling her face up to his in order to press a slow kiss on her lips. His other hand slides up her thigh to hook the underside of her knee in the crook of his elbow and doing so causes the iron of his bicep to press into the softness of her thigh, a pleasant contrast that makes a sigh fall from Nora’s chest. He leans his forehead down against hers as he maintains the slow, intense rhythm that lulls her into a daze.

Nora’s chest heaves with a quiet whine at the building pressure that he works into her and the leg that isn’t in his grasp now lifts gingerly to hook over his rolling hips. She uses that small amount of leverage to pull him a bit harder down into her each time, progressing slowly but surely until he is inevitably giving in to her punishing rhythm and crashes his hips down against her with growing abandon. He tightens his hold on her until she is no longer lying on the mattress but more so hovering over it, supported tightly in the strength of his embrace. Ray’s head falls to her chest, his breath peppering hotly across her breasts as a clipped groan rips from his throat.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Nora hisses into his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life. Ray rumbles a low sound in reply, adjusting his grip on her until his large arms are crushing her in a hug before he thrusts forward against her until his hips are pressed flush against hers. She gasps and winces from the sharp twinge that his deep penetration brings, but it is gone after a few moments when he begins to loosen his grip on her. 

The air rushes from her lungs when he hoists her up easily in his arms until she is sitting in his lap with her legs tucked around his back. Nora wraps her arms around his neck and leans her head back to study his expression as he slows the pace dramatically to a near stop. Their breathing mixes in what little space lies between them, hot and strained. 

Ray is smiling at her when he finally raises his bowed head, the expression widening into a charming grin that is accompanied by a breathless laugh. He leans forward and presses his lips against hers, his mouth warm and dry and sharpened by his faint stubble. Nora kisses him back with an approving hum, letting her eyes flutter shut when his tongue traces along hers. 

Something resembling a giggle escapes Nora when Ray begins to rumble like a bear into the kiss, his animalistic growl growing in volume as his hands rush to hook underneath her ass to lift her up his cock. With his arms alone he moves her body up and down him, his teeth barred and his eyes hooded when her gaze widens and her head lolls back between her shoulder blades. She feels weightless as he lifts her up and down, feels her toes curl at the distinct, pure penetration this position grants. 

Nora purrs, rolling her head back up to watch Ray’s expression as he begins to shuffle on his knees up the length of the bed. Her back collides with the ancient wooden headboard a bit roughly, causing her to wince as her head knocks against the stone wall. She leans forward to latch her teeth onto the bulk of his shoulder in retaliation, earning a punishing thrust from him that bounces her tailbone against the headboard with a noisy snap. 

With his weight pressing her against the wood he hoists her legs up to cross around his back before he grips the headboard with one hand for leverage. Nora barely has a moment to catch her breath before they are rocking together in a pace that is too fast and too frantic to be anything else but a chase for completion. His face is buried in the crook of her neck, his breath warm and ticklish against her pulse as his powerful body blanks her mind, causes her to rut forward desperately against his onslaught. 

“ _God damn it_ ,” Ray gasps, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips before his head tips back with a grimace. Nora swallows at the erotic image of him, his lips parted and his strong brow furrowed in concentration. One of his hands scoops under her ass to pull her into his thrusts and she can feel the way his fingers squeeze in small contractions into her flesh. “I gotta come, now—,”

“Look at me.” She interrupts him with a whisper, gripping his flexing jaw in her hand. Ray obeys immediately, exhaling hard through his nose as his burning eyes focus onto hers. He rolls his lip between his teeth when her other hand comes up to his cheek, his face cradled in her hands so that he is unable to look away. “I want you to come inside me.” She tells him this with the steel of any other order she has ever given, and something about that fact and the idea of it all makes his back threaten to bow in lust for this woman. 

Ray looks as if he had been physically struck with the way his expression pulls in devastated arousal, his eyes rolling shut for a moment as his rhythm begins to break apart into staccato, jolting pushes against her. His eyes open to her hard gaze, his brow drawing up in an almost innocent expression of amazement and pleading. “Are—oh _fuck_ … are you sure?”

Nora bares her teeth in a playful leer, leaning forward to bite his lower lip. “Did I fucking stutter, _sweetheart_?”

The words have barely left her lips before he begins to work into her as fast as he can, the headboard slamming back against the stone wall noisily as he bounces her once in his grip to get a better hold on her weight. His free hand anchors itself into her hair and forces her head back so that he can bury his face in her neck as he works his last, jerking thrusts into her body. 

“Oh!” Nora gasps with a small smile as a roar of a shout tears from Ray when he bottoms out, his hips still jumping in small, uncontrollable tremors as he spills as deeply inside her as he can. She winces at the bruising grip that he has on her ass and feels stretched thin with her head tilted back, but the warm feeling of his cum spilling down her thigh is too lovely to regret. 

She wraps her arms around his broad shoulders, splaying her hands against his back that heaves with strained breaths. She hugs him to her body with all of her limbs, clutching her thighs around him as her fingers dance up his spine to scratch her fingernails against the nape of his neck. 

Nora lets out a yelp when Ray suddenly flips her onto her back, and the speed with which he presses her down into the mattress causes her to bounce against the buoyant bed. His body quickly follows hers by collapsing his full weight on top of her with a guttural, rumbling sound in his chest—something similar to a beast’s purr. Nora wheezes under his solid body, her face screwing up into a grimace from the struggle to breathe properly as he lazily licks at her breast from where his head rests against her sternum. 

“Oh my god,” She coughs, slapping her hands at his back. “ _Get off me_.”

“Mmm…” He growls contentedly with his nose pressed into her skin, raising his head just enough to take her nipple into his mouth. “Can’t move.”

Nora exhales heavily and stares a bit petulantly up at the ceiling, wincing as she feels a gush of his orgasm leak out of her from the pressure on her abdomen. Despite her irritation a shudder of arousal heats along her skin at the sensation of his mouth on her breast—molten and wonderfully soft. 

“Ah…” He bellows out a sigh and rolls off of her body without warning, sprawling out on his back beside her with his long legs dangling off the edge of the bed. “Man, I want _more_.” He stretches his entire body with a clipped, garish grunt, his muscles contracting and stretching. “Let’s go again, yeah?”

“Jesus…” Nora leans up onto her elbows to frown down at his beaming face. “It’s barely been a minute.”

He shrugs and looks up at her, his eyes inevitably trailing down to stare openly at her tits. He leans forward with his mouth open as if to take her breast back into his mouth but is stopped short by her palm on his forehead. Nora watches him extend his tongue towards her nipple in a last ditch effort to get what he wants. She exhales tiredly, meeting his eyes when he looks up at her with a smile that is too wide to be entirely well-intentioned. 

Her glare turns contemplative. “I don’t know if I’m disgusted by you or impressed.”

“Why not both?” He frowns up at her—though the naughty little gleam in the chocolate of his eyes gives his frustration little merit. A moment of silence passes and it seems as if he is waiting for Nora to laugh and give in to him. She doesn’t. “Well shit, at least let me go down on you. That’s not too much to ask.”

Nora blinks at him as he pushes up onto his knees to lean down over her lounging body. “You just came inside me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I had my own cum in my mouth, if I’m bein’ honest.” Ray presses a kiss to her lips before gripping one of her knees in his hand to spread her legs. He chances a peek at her, biting his lip and exhaling heavily. “God you look good filled up with me like that, querida.”

“Hm.” Nora hums with a swallow at the lurch of lust that his voice ignites in her. She watches his expression for a moment, studying his handsome face and the way his eyes brighten as they travel over the marks he had left on her body. “You don’t have to worry, Ray.” He looks up instantly at her words, his brow creased in confusion. She nudges her hips up at him in explanation until his eyes glance down between her legs in comprehension.

“I trust you.” He replies easily with a shrug of his broad shoulders, tapping his fingers against her thigh before beginning to stroke the back of his knuckles along the soft skin. Ray stares at her face for a lingering moment before ducking his head and standing up from the bed, one hand scratching at his scalp while he leans over to pull his tattered underwear up over his hips. 

Nora reaches over to the bedside table to get a cigarette and her lighter, leaning back against the pillows with her first inhale to watch through the curls of smoke as Ray gathers his clothing that is strewn across the room. She mouths her cigarette distractedly as he pulls his jeans up, the denim hanging fetchingly low on his narrow hips. Her eyes travel over the muscles in his back, the way they move beneath his dark skin as he zips up his pants. She breathes out a bit unsteadily, rubbing her thighs together as he shakes his fingers through his hair in a delightfully masculine toss of his hand. After a moment he looks back over to the bed, his stare zeroing in on her. She narrows her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side as a lazy cloud of smoke rises from her rounded lips. 

Ray strides across the room quickly, too fast for Nora to move before he is grabbing her by the ankles to tug her forcefully until her ass is almost hanging off the edge of the mattress. He kneels down in front of her, his breath coming a bit short as he looks up into her eyes before leaning forward to press his mouth against her cunt. Nora is quick to flick her cigarette into a nearby ashtray before her hands become useless, swallowing audibly and letting out a soft whine as he seals his lips against her with hard, insistent suction. 

It’s easy to see that he isn’t aiming to tease, but more so get her off fast and hard. The sounds he makes are sloppy and wet, and the realization that he must be able to taste himself as much as her makes Nora’s thighs begin to tremble in excitement. She can’t take her eyes off of his, the darkness of his gaze captivatingly intense as his lips capture her clit so that his tongue can curl against it. Her hand darts down to grip his hair and her jaw falls open in shock, a clipped cry bursting from her lungs when he pushes two fingers inside her. He works his fingers fast, curling them up towards her stomach whilst rocking her deliciously hard. It doesn’t take very long at all with how worked up she already was, one last hard pass of his tongue and her back bows with a heavy gasp. Ray groans loudly against her and his arm comes up to wrap around one of her shuddering thighs, working her through an over-sensitive, rushed orgasm that has little snaps of pressure popping near Nora’s temples.

“Ah!” She sobs, pressing her hand down insistently against his head to urge his tongue away from her. “ _Enough_ , please—,”

With one last kiss against the inside of her thigh Ray straightens up to tower over her body, easing his fingers from inside her and holding them up to his eyes in awe of their shine. The lower half of his face is wet with their combined fluids and he wipes at his mouth with the back of his arm before he presses a knee into the mattress to lean over her body. 

“Oh _shit_ , that was good…” Nora pants over the roar of her pulse in her ears, appraising Ray’s roguish grin with an impressed shine in her eyes.

“Open your mouth for me, baby.” He breathes, flashing her a wink. Nora’s heavy eyes narrow in a challenge despite allowing her lips to part, taking Ray’s wet fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue against his knuckles. She can taste _him_ and just that thought alone brings a small moan from her chest as she sucks the fluids from his fingers. 

She can hear his breath coming a bit hard as she slowly slides her lips off him, giving a small bite to the tip of his middle finger before concentrating her eyes back on his focused look. “You’re filthy.”

Ray laughs boisterously and grins before standing up from the bed and staring down at her, his whole demeanor taking on a particularly cheeky air as she reaches a shaking hand to retrieve her still-burning cigarette. “You sure take it like a champ, General.”

Nora raises an eyebrow at him through the swirling smoke, licking at her lips as she shakes her head. “I’ve been ‘taking it like a champ’ since before you were a twinkle in your mother’s eye, _dear_.” Ray bites his lip to contain his mirth as he watches her grumpily shift around on the bed until she is comfortable. “Long, long before, actually.”

“Fuck me, you’re perfect.” He falls back to his knees beside the bed and scoots forward until he can rest his chin on the mattress beside the pillows where Nora rests her head. She barely spares him a glance from the corner of her eye, her brow furrowing at his words as she takes a slothful drag on her cigarette. Ray watches her every move with wide, reverent eyes. “I want you to _destroy_ me.”

Nora rolls her head across the pillows to press her cheek into the downy material, facing Ray’s dilated eyes with a pensive frown on her face. “And I want to go to sleep.” 

He presses his face down hard into the mattress for a few quiet moments before jumping up with a couple brisk bounces on the balls of his feet, shaking his head wildly to straighten his thoughts—a habit of his, she’s noticed. She watches curiously as he makes short work of the rest of his clothing, buttoning up his uniform and shrugging into his coat before running a quick hand through his hair.

Presentable, he now turns to Nora with a wide smile, unaffected on his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, General.” 

Nora looks intently into his eyes for a moment, a spark of worry in the back of her mind replaying the look of devotion she had seen in his eyes moments ago. She blinks hard after a long beat of silence and allows him a smile, albeit a guarded one, and holds her breath until the bedroom door closes behind his back. 


	8. Visitor

In the darkness of her chambers—some hours later—Nora is awoken by a light, rhythmic tapping on the middle of her forehead. 

A split second after that realization is another: there is a man’s voice humming ‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’ almost painfully off-tune right beside Nora in her bed. Despite the initial alarm of something so distinctly disturbing, she has the sense to take a deep breath to catch the man’s scent before she springs into action. 

Cigarettes. The slightest hint of pre-war cologne. The damp, musty chill of ancient brick.

“Deacon.” Nora grumbles, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nope.” Deacon hums softly. Nora can almost feel the brightness of his smile when she slaps his hand away from her forehead as if it were a pesky fly. “I’ll give you two more guesses.” Once her hand falls boneless back to the mattress he begins tapping her brow again. 

Nora sighs heavily through her nose, still refusing to open her eyes. “How about I give _you_ two seconds to stop touching my fucking forehead.”

“Mmm, boy do I like morning Nora.” He scoots in closer to the warmth of her body and she can feel the chill of his nose pressing into her neck. “Huh.”

Nora cracks her eye open at his tone, unable to see through the intense dark of her quarters. She can feel him though, his leg draped over hers on top of the blankets, one of his arms crossed over her abdomen to where his hand cradles her left wrist. “What?”

“You smell… different.” He replies, his tone thoughtful but not accusing. He must know what she’s been up to—but that’s just Deacon. If he ever got jealous or suspicious, he never showed it.

“And you’re cold.” She sighs after a moment, nudging at him until she can wrench the blankets out from under his weight. He slides in next to her when she holds the covers open for him, his palm resting on her bare belly.

“Yikes. You’re _naked_ , pal.” He whispers conspiratorially, one of his fingers circling around her bellybutton. 

“Go to sleep, please.” Nora snaps irritably into her pillow, covering his hand with her own and letting him steal her sleepy heat. 

“Oh, you know me—once I’m awake, that’s it. Game over.” She exhales heavily through her nose as he rambles, his free hand walking two fingers over the slope of her breast underneath the covers. “Besides, don’t you want to know how I broke into the Castle?” 

“Was it the same way that you broke in last time?” She yawns, grabbing his wandering hand and holding it down against her sternum, effectively ending any potential friskiness. 

“Scaling these walls gets pretty old after the third time, believe it or not. So, no.” He shakes his head, snaking one of his cold feet up her thigh until she has to release one of his hands to stop his ascent. “Actually I just walked right in.”

“That’s… not breaking in.”

“Hey, if I saw a man wearing sunglasses at four AM trying to walk into HQ, I’d raise a stink. I mean, _who does that_?” Deacon traces a finger along her collarbone and she can feel him shrug. “Don’t tell me that’s not _shady_.”

“If it really is four in the god damn morning, then it is too early for puns. Or anything else, for that matter.” Nora snorts despite herself, turning her head until she is facing the heat of his breath. “What’re you doing here, Deacon?”

“Hmm.” He hums, removing a hand from under the blankets to use two of his fingers to discover the features of her face in the dense darkness. “Don’t you want to know how I got in your room?”

Nora blinks. “Yes, actually. That’s a bit concerning.”

“Your door was… _unlocked_.” Deacon stage whispers, poking her between her eyebrows. 

“What? No, I locked it—,” She stops, biting her lip as she thinks back to the last person to leave this room. “Oh. Never mind.”

“He’s sloppy, whatever his name is.” He muses after a moment of silent contemplation. He traces her cheekbone with his thumb. Nora frowns, wondering how long Deacon had been at the Castle for him to have seen Ray and piece it all together. Or did he watch Valdez leave her room last night? 

“He’s young, is all.” Nora sighs, feeling a bit uncomfortable—as if they were judging Ray behind his back. 

“He’s a bad egg, pal.” Deacon warns with a light, nagging sing-song that reminds Nora very much of her mother. “And judging by his freakish size, he’s also Sasquatch! Crazy, right? Confirmed after so many centuries.”

“How much do you know about him?” She asks, pressing her hand flat against Deacon’s chest, searching for his heart. She feels it eventually, the beat of it even and strong. 

“At least enough to wonder _why_ he’s _here_ , other than the… _obvious_ reasons.” He allows her hands to explore him as his did to her. Her fingers brush along his throat to scrape her nails at the stubble on his jaw. “I thought you weren’t into younger guys.”

“Yeah, well, everyone is younger than me these days.” Nora presses her nails a little harder into his skin, enough so that one of his hands comes up to gently encase her wrist. “Including you.”

“Sure, but we’re just friends.” She can hear the smile in his voice as much as she can picture it. Nora smiles back, even if he can’t see it. “I’m not judging, Nora.”

“I know you’re not.” She rolls over until her body is draped over his, her right ear pressed against his chest and deaf to anything but his heartbeat. “I’m not ashamed, only… _cautious_ , I’d really rather not have anyone know about him and I.”

“Yup.” He replies easily, and Nora knows she doesn’t have to ask him to keep it a secret. Deacon is her best friend and occasionally something more—her trust in him is as natural and deep-running as her veins. “He kinda looks like Nate.” Nora nods in a tiny movement, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his t-shirt. “Are you in deep yet, partner? Cause I hate to break it to you, but you’re a Capricorn and—I’m not _totally_ sure—but he seems like an Aries. Not the most compatible, but hey.”

“No. No, no. It’s just sex and it won’t last forever.” Nora is back to feeling unsure and a bit guilty—for whatever reason. Valdez may be a pain in her ass and an ex-raider with a secret over her head, but that doesn’t mean he’s a _bad_ person—at least, he’s trying not to be. He’s a bit sweet, if she’s being honest, if perhaps a little too keen. “Shit. It’s probably a mistake.”

“He’s young, right? He’ll get over it.” Deacon runs the back of his knuckles along her spine distractedly, pressing his nose down into the top of her head. “But, uh, _anyway_ —I’m not here to talk about who you’re sleeping with instead of me.”

“Oh, then you can leave.” Nora deadpans, rolling away from him and fake-snoring loudly once her back is facing him. Deacon hums a pleasant laugh, trying to play along, and reaches across her body towards the bedside table. She peeks an eye open just long enough to see that he has her lighter in hand, the one with Deacon’s initial, and is lighting a trio of candles glued to the shoddy table by melted wax. She snores louder.

Deacon’s hand wraps around her shoulder, tugging until she rolls over onto her back. She’s aware that her breasts are exposed with the sheet riding low on her waist, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen. She keeps her eyes shut and continues to snort dramatically—desperately trying not to laugh—but his teeth biting into the warm flesh over her ribs wrenches a yelp from her. 

“You could never fool me with that, bud.” He leans his face down close to hers once Nora’s eyes open. “Everyone knows that you snore louder than that. And I do mean _everyone_ —there have been complaints.”

Nora laughs easily and rolls her eyes. “Hi.” She leans up and gives him a chaste kiss on the lips before letting her head fall back onto the pillows. 

“Hey.”

“Fill me in then, why have you broken in?” She makes a bit of a show of snuggling back into the pillows to get comfortable for his explanation. 

“Well I feel as if this should be obvious: for the bragging rights. How many people get to invade a castle nowadays?” Deacon grins that million dollar smile and Nora feels some of the tension in her temples soften as she lets out a chuckle. Although, despite their easy banter, she can tell he has a bit of a wall up—he always gets like this after not seeing her for a while, so she doesn’t take it to heart. She has learned to be patient for him.

“You managed to find the Queen’s chambers, at least.” Nora arches a brow up at him, pulling her sheet up to cover herself. She taps a finger to her bottom lip thoughtfully. “So then… was that you using _torture_ to wake me up?”

“You guessed it! That was what I like to call Chinese water torture—or, a simulation of it. I usually try out all my torture techniques on my partner.” He taps her forehead when she scowls mildly. “You can’t go around inflicting inexperienced torment, after all. Castle invader one-oh-one.” 

“Right.” She scoffs, straining to reach her pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. After lighting one up with the lit candles and taking a deep drag, she offers the filter up to Deacon. He wraps his hand around her wrist and takes a draw off the cigarette, his lips pressing against her fingers. “Honestly, now. What’s up?”

“Uh oh. _The safe word_.” He teases through the smoke that swirls charmingly from his lips. “ _Honestly_ , I need to lie low. No biggie.” _Ah, there it is_. He shrugs and weighs his head to the side as he watches her smoke. “ _Annnd_ it just so happens that I feel safest in the bosom of the General of the Minutemen, the _newest face_ of martial law in the Commonwealth.” 

“Oh fuck off.” Nora snorts and rolls her back in a full body stretch, unyielding until she hears a cluster of satisfying pops along her spine. “That isn’t the best way to request my protection.”

“Uhm, you’re probably right. I’m bad at the whole seeking shelter thing.” Deacon laments, stealing Nora’s cigarette and settling down next to her on his back. “How about… Hmm—oh! In exchange for your protection I’ll be your manservant for as long as I’m here. No one will question it if I wear a tux and white gloves, right?”

“Hmph, who knows? Everyone’s already scared of me enough as it is, anyway. I might as well be a bit more outrageous.” She takes her cigarette back, pinching it between her lips and scowling up at the ceiling. “Someone started a rumor that I was a super mutant.”

“I thought the rumor was that you were _as tall and as ugly_ as a super mutant, but— _shockingly_ —still human.” Nora flops her head against the pillow to narrow her eyes suspiciously at Deacon. He turns his head to look at her, his expression practically blank due to his sunglasses. “What? Rumors travel fast.” He grins, a slow reveal of straight teeth that makes it near impossible for Nora to keep her expression stern. “That is _one_ of my favorites, by the way. Another good one is where you are actually a Chinese spy, and that the vault you were frozen in was full of assassins all tasked with taking over the remnants of America.”

“That could be possible, _if_ I were Chinese.” Her sharp laugh is muffled with her lips clamped around her cigarette. “Ah… and here I thought I could finally escape being accused of being a Chinese spy after we all blew each other up.”

“ _Yeaaah_ , well, I think the rumor only gained momentum after you spoke Japanese to Takahashi.” Deacon rolls up onto his elbow to look down at her face. 

Nora’s expression turns thoughtful with a hint of humor in her eyes. “That was a pretty one-sided conversation, though—not very assassin-esque.”

Deacon is quiet for a moment, tracing a circle into the mattress with his index finger before clearing his throat noisily. “One that you _could_ attempt to repeat, if you want to hike out to Diamond City with me tomorrow.” Nora frowns and shifts her eyes to stare up into Deacon’s shades. 

She snorts after a moment of quiet and flicks the ashes off her cigarette. “Nice segue.”

“Thanks.” He says with an exhale, tilting his head with a handsome smile. “I’ve been rehearsing it.”

“Uhm…” She pinches the bridge of her nose as she begins to hear the bustling of a slowly awakening Castle. Crickets give way to groaning brahmin and low chatter carries from the farmers walking past her quarters. A thin ribbon of grey morning light filters under the crack of the door. “Thought you needed to lay low.” 

“I do. Oh—and, well, _technically_ we need to stop by Goodneighbor, too.” When Nora continues to stare blankly at him, he weighs his head from side to side in defeat. “Des needs a heavy to chaperone one K6-78 to Taffington. K6 is with Amari and has already been wiped.”

“So you’re here on business.”

“You guessed it, pal.” Deacon winks at her over the top of his sunglasses. “I brought my briefcase and everything.”

“Right…” Nora drawls, running through the mission in theory quickly in her mind before nodding. Doable, she’d be gone four days max. “And what’s in Diamond City?”

“Oh, you know—spy stuff…” He laments, running a hand over his bare scalp. “Nothing for you to worry over.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Nora sighs, feigning disinterest. “So _how_ is this you laying low?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, ma’am.” She narrows her eyes at the sudden southern twang his voice takes on but decides to play along. “I’m just a humble soldier accompanying his General as they guard a caravan distributing Minuteman provisions to allied settlements, including Taffington.”

Nora purses her lips and nods, looking away from Deacon to scowl at the opposite wall. “Of course you’ve heard about the attacked caravan.” 

“A little birdy told me.” Deacon shrugs, casually examining his nails. “Hey, how’s your _shoulder_?”

Nora turns her head to stare up at him and blinks owlishly in disbelief. “Christ, I can’t escape you.” 

“That’s always been the case!” He pipes up cheerfully, arcing his fist slowly to pantomime an affable punch to her bicep. “So, you in?”

“I’m in,” Nora yawns deeply, eyes prickling with drowsy tears. “I’ll have to let Preston know, of course.”

“We can wait for that.” Deacon nods, leaning over her to glance at her pipboy that rests on the nightstand. “Preston doesn’t usually wake up for another hour and a half, _if_ my calculations are correct.”

“And _the General_ doesn’t usually wake up until she fucking wants to.” Nora flops petulantly onto her side with her back facing Deacon. “Get to sleep or get out, so help me.”


	9. Promoted

Preston Garvey wakes up at precisely five-thirty in the morning, every day, without the aid of an alarm clock. He dresses quickly, not one piece of his uniform wrinkled or amiss, and takes an hour long walk around the wall to check the defenses. After this he goes straight to the mess hall and eats an obscene amount of food before getting a head start on his daily duties. It’s easy to assume that he has always been this way—freakishly punctual and a dutiful perfectionist. So, to Nora, the lack of his usual presence in the mess hall later that morning at half past six is bewildering. 

“Psst!” Deacon leans into the table to stage whisper to Nora. “Preston’s an adult, pass it on.”

She turns her searching eyes back to where Deacon sits across from her. “I’m aware, it’s just—bizarre, is all.”

“Hey, I have a few theories if it makes you feel any better.” He offers around a mouthful of Razorgrain bread. Nora frowns at him, crossing her arms heavily on her chest before her eyes begin to drift back worriedly to the mess hall entrance. “What if Preston commandeered a ship and swept Curie away onto the high seas?”

“I might be impressed, actually.” Nora allows absently, her eyes narrowing slightly when a familiar face enters the building. 

Valdez’s radiating charisma seems to draw attention on him instinctually, despite the fact that he isn’t trying. He nearly has to duck his head to walk through the door. He strides with his usual swagger with Beth Turner at his side and he leans in close to her in obvious flirtatious banter as they make their way towards the mess line. He doesn’t look tired despite probably getting about as much sleep as she did, which is disgustingly unfair—Nora blames it on his age and rolls her eyes, tearing into her bread grumpily as a distant roll of thunder sounds outside. 

“Sounds like rain, kiddos.” Nora looks up as Ronnie Shaw scoots in beside her, the older woman’s plate piled precariously high. Shaw stares sternly at Deacon, probably recognizing him in one way or another but—like most people—cannot place him. She distracts herself by looking around the immediate vicinity. “Where’s Garvey?”

“You tell me.” Nora mumbles, resisting the urge to rub at her tired eyes. 

“Didn’t see him on his morning patrol today—curious, that.” Ronnie squints at Nora as she shovels a large bite into her mouth. “Course, I didn’t see _you_ either, General.”

Nora’s eye twitches irritably. “ _No_ you did not.”

“Ain’t none of my business either way, ma’am, _naturally_.” Shaw winks at Deacon and he replies in kind with his mouth openly chewing a mass of dough. _That little shit_.

“Mm.” Nora sucks at her teeth, unable to keep her eyes from darting once more to the door. 

“Well! Now that I’ve got ya cornered, General, I thought I oughta mention that while you had Captain Osborn’s team out and about, we got news from Sanctuary.”

Nora’s ears perk up and she turns her head to look over at Ronnie. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Deacon’s posture shift minutely in obvious anxious energy. “I was there two weeks ago.”

“Sure, they mentioned as much with the last caravan that passed through.” It takes Ronnie a moment to realize that Nora is awaiting the news with bated breath, the General’s expression stony and impatient to disguise her trepidation. Ronnie’s eyes widen a touch and she is quick to shake her head. “It’s nothin’ about the kid, ma’am. He’s safe and sound with that young fellow with the hat and the big gun. Safe as he’ll ever be, I’d bet—other than with you.”

Nora deflates even though her heart still manages to nearly jump out of her chest. _Thank you, MacCready _. Her throat aches at the thought of _her boy_ —it isn’t realistic to never leave Shaun’s side, even if all she wants to do is be with him. She pushes that hurt away for a more private time, glancing up at Deacon before simply nodding and spearing a chunk of Mirelurk meat with her fork.__

__“Captain Danse has reported increased greenskin activity just outside of Concord, never close enough to raise a stink, but…” Ronnie’s expression pulls sourly as she weighs her head to the side in consideration. “He and his squad are gettin’ a bit ruffled over it. It’s nothin’ they can’t handle, but he thinks it’s worth sending another squad or two over to Sanctuary. Just in case, you see.”_ _

__“In case the mutants try in on Sanctuary?” Nora raises an eyebrow skeptically but knows in her heart that she’d send her entire army to protect her child. “ _Right_.”_ _

__“Sure, you say that now… But just give those muties a chance, General. They pop up like damn weeds.”_ _

__“Yeah, I know.” Nora grumbles, looking up from her plate at the presence suddenly standing over her table. Her eyes travel up the long figure until she settles steadily on Ray’s face, his expression nearly neutral if not for the little twinkle in his eye as he meets her stare. The General is a perfect mask of disinterest as she turns to look Beth Turner up and down in question._ _

__“Ugh, speakin’ of pests.” Ronnie huffs as Valdez and Turner snap salutes to their superiors. “A good god damn morning to you, Turner—and I see you’ve dragged along the giant oaf for our _endless_ amusement.”_ _

__“Ma’am.” Turner greets the Major before turning her eyes on Nora. “Good morning, General.”_ _

__“Good morning, Turner. How are you?” Nora smiles stiffly, feeling Valdez’s eyes burning two holes into her fucking face. She can nearly taste his delight from here. For a split second she glances to Deacon—a habit of hers—to see his reaction to being in such close proximity to one of his more recent ‘projects’. He hasn’t even looked up and instead continues to eat, completely unaffected._ _

__“I’m fine, ma’am, thank you. I actually wanted to ask you the same—more so, how is your shoulder?” Turner looks like she wants to poke and prod at the formerly injured area like the good little medic she is, but one look at the General’s hard eyes and she straightens her back like a steel rod._ _

__“Excellent, thanks to you.” Nora tries to lighten up with a mostly genuine smile, for Beth’s sake. She likes the girl’s intelligent eyes and the assured strength that she sees in her. _Hmm_. “I doubt it’ll even scar.”_ _

__“I’m glad, ma’am.” Turner’s chest puffs up a bit with pride. “You’re feeling good, otherwise? Have you gotten enough rest?”_ _

__“You _do_ look a bit tired, ma’am.” Ray cuts in, eyes bright when Nora turns to bore her gaze into his. _ _

__“Are you touched in the head, Valdez?” Ronnie fixes him with a bewildered scowl. He looks like he’s about to burst from the Major’s reaction, the twitch of a laugh ghosting over his lips._ _

__“I _am_ tired, Valdez.” Nora tells him, staring evenly into his eyes in an attempt to convey how close he is to danger. “Thank you for your concern.”_ _

__“Anytime, General.” Valdez inclines his head in what must’ve been his version of a ‘respectful’ salute. “Major.” He winks at Shaw—who looks like she’s about to start throwing cutlery—before ducking out behind Turner to make his way over to a table where the rest of his squad sits._ _

__Beth looks as if she’s about to do the same before Nora stops her. “Turner.”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am?”_ _

__“How is Captain Osborn?” Nora asks, tracing the rim of her water glass absently. “Is she still in the infirmary?”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am, unfortunately.” Turner frowns a bit, looking between her two superiors. “Her arm is broken and from what I hear she won’t be cleared for duty for at least a month.”_ _

__“Shit.” Ronnie hisses, sympathy clear in her tone. “I’d go nuts.”_ _

__“Me too, Major.” Turner smiles half-heartedly._ _

__“And what of your other squad member? What was her name?” Nora squints as she searches her cluttered memory._ _

__“Carrie Higgins, ma’am. She was cleared for duty this morning.”_ _

__“Good—I’ll go see the Captain today, and I expect you and the rest of your squad to come meet me there at 0800 hours.” Nora sighs, scratching at her scalp. “Thank you, Turner, that’s all for now. Go eat.”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am.” Beth nods after a brief moment of surprise, her dark eyes cutting curiously to watch Nora out of her peripheral vision even as she makes her way over to join Valdez and the rest._ _

__“General?” Ronnie hushes when they are alone once again. She watches Nora sip at her water calmly before the General tucks back into her meal._ _

__“I’m thinking of sending Captain Osborn’s squad to Sanctuary.” Nora replies in a low voice. “I was impressed with their dynamic yesterday; I think they’re more than ready to get out there.”_ _

__“ _Without_ Osborn?” Ronnie frowns with a tone that’s just incredulous enough to border on insubordinate. Though, Nora supposes most interactions with Ronnie Shaw could boast the same._ _

__Nora turns a cold eye on Shaw, one eyebrow arched in a challenge. “Do you have a problem with that, Major?”_ _

__Ronnie might’ve argued if it weren’t so early in the morning, knowing as well as anybody that the General is the sourest in the beginning of the day. “Suppose I don’t, ma’am. Only… That’s a bit harsh on the Captain.”_ _

__“It’s not personal, Ronnie.” Nora scoffs with a roll of her eyes, pushing dismissively at her plate once she scooped up the last of her stew. “I’m not waiting a _month_ to send a squad.”_ _

__“Fair enough.” Ronnie nods slowly, her eyes following the General’s movements as she stands and downs the rest of her water. “I suppose you’ll let the Captain know?”_ _

__“ _Naturally_.” Nora smiles rigidly at Ronnie before nodding to Deacon with an eyebrow raised in question. “You alright?”_ _

__“You bet, boss.” Deacon pipes up, reaching across the table to snatch up Nora’s leftover bread._ _

__“Where’re you off to?” Ronnie asks as Nora shrugs into her coat._ _

__“Going for a walk,” She sighs as she straightens her lapels and pulls her hair from the collar of her jacket. “I need to think some things through.”_ _

__~~~_ _

__

__Nora sighs and lets her head hang back between her shoulders to blow a column of smoke up into the swollen grey sky. It looks like rain alright—and while the farmers are rejoicing, the soldiers are moaning. Rain means cold and wet and rain means mud. Despite her personal preference for storms, she can agree with the general consensus that traveling long distances in such conditions is miserable._ _

__Nora flinches as a fat raindrop careens from the clouds to splatter heavily onto her forehead. She blinks, and after another moment of contemplation she flicks her cigarette into the dirt and presses it out with the ball of her foot. She makes her way into the infirmary with eyes scanning the open area until she spots Captain Osborn in a bed beside a window. The woman’s dark skin that usually glows like mahogany seems dull and sickly and her eyes have deep running circles underneath them. Nora’s eyes flicker over the sling Osborn’s arm hangs in as she makes her way over to the bed._ _

__The Captain looks up at the sound of Nora’s booted footsteps, her eyebrows rising on her forehead and her uninjured arm snapping a trained salute. “General, good morning.”_ _

__“Morning, Captain.” Nora smiles, leaning her hip against the bedframe and crossing her arms on her chest in her observation of the woman. “How’re you feeling?”_ _

__“I’m fine, thank you ma’am.” She nods stiffly, glancing down at her broken arm tiredly. “I’m told it’s the infection from a feral bite that’s keeping me bedridden… Figures, huh?”_ _

__“I’m sorry you’re stuck in here.” Nora watches the expression turn bitter on the other woman’s face at those words. _Stuck in here_. _ _

__“It’s me who’s sorry, General.” Osborn shakes her head, her dark brown eyes darting down to stare angrily at the bed. “I screwed up, ma’am. I—,”_ _

__“Join the club, Osborn—we all make mistakes.” Nora dismisses firmly, holding the Captain’s questioning gaze once she looks up. “We have already discussed that and there is no use dwelling on it. I’m here for a different reason.”_ _

__“Ma’am?”_ _

__“Who in your squad do you have the utmost confidence in?” Nora asks, tilting her head in curiosity as she watches the surprise play on Osborn’s face._ _

__“Well…” She considers this, though Nora can see a flash of something assured in her eyes. “I place my trust in Beth Turner, General. She’s sharp as hell and she’s compassionate—not a bad shot either, though she can’t hold a candle to Gould.” _Thought so_._ _

__“Good, then we’re on the same page.” Nora smiles, though the expression lacks any overindulgence of warmth despite her efforts. “I put her in a position of leadership on our rescue mission yesterday and she thrived. I’m impressed with the progress with your squad.”_ _

__Osborn brightens noticeably under the praise, though she only allows herself a curt nod and a hint of a smile. “Thank you, General.”_ _

__Nora glances down at her pipboy when the infirmary door opens with a loud squeal of rusted hinges. 8:03. _Close enough_. She inclines her head over her shoulder as Osborn’s squad files in to stand in a neat row beside their Captain’s bed, mumbling their greetings to their superiors. Osborn looks like she’s ready for the worst kind of news and Nora feels a momentary pang of sympathy. _ _

__“Turner.” Nora nods to the ghoul and watches as Beth looks suspiciously at her Captain and then at each member of her squad before stepping forward. “I’m promoting you to Lieutenant under Captain Osborn starting immediately. I’m sure the Captain will agree with my decision.”_ _

__Beth’s eyes widen into huge black pools, her head snapping over to stare incredulously at Osborn. The Captain seems to relax immensely, a wide smile breaking out onto her face with her assenting nod. “I agree wholeheartedly.”_ _

__Nora finds herself nearly grinning once Beth turns back to gawk her. “Congratulations, Turner. You get a new hat.”_ _

__“Wow—um… I mean— _gosh_ , thank you, General.” Turner splutters, a bit breathless and absolutely glowing with pride. “Thank you, Captain.”_ _

__The rest of her squad seems just about bursting with praise, but they all remain in their positions. Valdez, however, leans forward to clap Beth on the back heartily enough for her to stumble forward a step. His smile is widespread and bright with admiration. Nora observes this, her expression softening a touch, before she clears her throat._ _

__“Captain Osborn, tomorrow your squad will be transferred to Sanctuary.” Nora finds it best to be blunt, though she usually ends up feeling a bit impatient with the bewildered reactions she often gets._ _

__Osborn’s mouth opens and closes as she tries to search for her words. Nora can see the blow she dealt, and isn’t proud of it, but there it is. “But, ma’am, I can’t—,”_ _

__“They’ll go without you under Lieutenant Turner’s supervision.” Nora continues, catching the way Osborn winces involuntarily. She can taste the growing strain in the squad, can feel their confused and angry stares on her face, but she is unrelenting. “It will be a temporary post, though an absolutely necessary one. I’ve—,”_ _

__“We won’t leave _without_ the Captain, General—,” _ _

__Nora turns her head slowly to settle her seething eyes on Ray’s face, feeling a wave of exasperation rise up her spine like fire. “ _Excuse me_?” Nora snarls and, just like that, the room falls deathly silent. _ _

__Valdez’s jaw tightens visibly at his outburst and it’s instantly obvious to the General that it was an _unintentional_ outburst. _Doesn’t matter_. She can see his fists flex as she approaches—his nervous habit. Once Nora is in front of him she cocks her head to the side in a provocation for him to challenge her again. He does not. “Valdez, would you like your Captain to leave her bed prematurely?”_ _

__“No.” He grits out, narrowing his eyes a tad bit when Kyle Sims nudges him with an elbow. “No, _ma’am_.”_ _

__“Do you think Captain Osborn can shoot with a _broken arm_?”_ _

__“No, ma’am.” He shakes his head sharply, glancing over at Osborn for the briefest of seconds._ _

__“Then keep your mouth shut, Valdez.” Nora growls, her eyes darting around his face for a long moment. “And _don’t fucking interrupt me again_ or I swear to all that is holy I will keep you here to scrub the latrines until you don’t know what is shit and what’s not. Is that clear?”_ _

__Inexplicably, Nora can see a brilliant flash of awe in his dark eyes when they dart down to stare at her face—though that awe is nearly overshadowed by dread. She just dangled his worst fear right in front of him: no action. She can imagine that being stuck in one place with nothing to do—no one to fight—is the closest to his own personal nightmare as she can get._ _

__“It’s crystal clear, ma’am.” Ray exhales, trying his hardest not to beam down at her. She feels a tender flutter in her chest. “I’m sorry, General.”_ _

__Nora squints her eyes up at him suspiciously for a moment, wondering if her threat hit home so well that he’s actually sincere or if that’s just his fixation with being berated coming forth. “Apology accepted.”_ _

__She lets him squirm for another beat under her gaze before she turns on her heel, swearing she can hear a collective sigh of relief when she finally relents. “Now, as I was saying,” Nora begins, wrapping her hands around the steel frame of the foot of the bed and leaning her weight into her arms as she looks around at the Minutemen gathered. “I’ve gotten word from Captain Danse stationed in Sanctuary that Super Mutants have been lurking outside of Concord.”_ _

__There is a small reaction to ‘Super Mutants’, a few surprised and anxious glances between squad mates. Valdez, unsurprisingly, looks tremendously thrilled._ _

__“I will be escorting you to Sanctuary tomorrow. I aim to clean up the mutants before they get the gumption to _try_ to take our town.” Nora cocks an eyebrow at the growing anticipation in the squad. “I’m not waiting for their piss-ant attempt at an assault.”_ _

__“Good idea, General.” Osborn speaks up, and when Nora looks to the Captain she can tell that her compliment is sincere—despite the humiliation of not being able to accompany her squad. “I have full confidence in the Lieutenant in my absence.”_ _

__Beth Turner flinches with the emotion that comes with her Captain’s acclaim, nodding and swallowing around an obvious lump in her throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”_ _

__“Our secondary objective is escorting a civilian and an important caravan to Taffington. I’m sure you all know the reasoning behind my caution concerning my provisioners.” Solemn nods all around. “I’ll be sending a secondary squad to rendezvous with the caravan outside of Diamond City while you accompany me to pick up our civilian in Goodneighbor.”_ _

__Whether or not the squad pieces together ‘civilian’ and ‘Taffington’, she cannot tell. After the combined efforts of the Railroad and the Minutemen to take down the Brotherhood of Steel and the Institute, Nora had enacted a strict Acceptance to Synthetic Peoples caveat for the admission into her army—and for all of those Commonwealth citizens under her protection. While fantastic in theory, the whole thing made Nora roll her eyes—even the name, suggested by Desdemona, made her teeth grind. Her _son_ is a synth—if she had it her way, she’d manhandle the Commonwealth into acceptance and then wipe her hands of the whole fucking thing. But things aren’t always that simple. It had taken a long while to get all of the settlers to become comfortable with such a ‘law’, and there are certainly more than a few who make their lingering uneasiness very clear. Thankfully there are settlements that are known for being exceptionally more accepting than others—Taffington being one of them. _ _

__“I chose this squad because I was impressed with your teamwork yesterday.” Nora looks down the line of Minutemen, observing their varying degrees of delight under her approval. “One of you even saved my life, something that I won’t forget.” Ray’s jaw flexes and a small, private smile brightens up his face. “Some of you may know how personally invested I am in Sanctuary’s safety—and if you do, then you know how very highly I must regard your abilities to take you along with me.”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am.” They all chorus together and Captain Osborn—despite her strong demeanor—looks very much like a proud parent._ _

__“You’re all dismissed— except you, Turner.” Nora sighs, nodding in response to their salutes. “I suggest you prepare for the trip today, as we leave at 0600 hours tomorrow.”_ _

__Nora’s eyes follow the squad as they file out and she manages to catch the over-enthusiastic thumbs-up that they shoot Turner. Beth, to her credit, succeeds in keeping a straight face long enough for them to leave the infirmary. “Yes, General?”_ _

__“Where’s the caravan guard that Valdez and I rescued?”_ _

__“Upstairs, ma’am.” Turner replies, leading the General up the stairs and looking back at her over her shoulder as she walks. “He hasn’t woken up yet, but we have him stabilized—well, for the most part.”_ _

__As they approach the bed where the man sleeps Nora tries to place which settlement he might be from. Jamaica Plain, maybe? “How’s the leg?”_ _

__“Mm, not great. Infected from the bite, most likely.” Beth frowns, lifting the sheet to show Nora the man’s leg. It had been amputated further up, just below the knee. She grimaces slightly at the sight of the angry red stump, feeling a rush of guilt that has lingered with her ever since discovering her indirect involvement in the caravan’s attack. “That must’ve been one hell of a feral, to pull this guy’s foot off like that.” Turner shudders before glancing over at Nora’s shoulder. “Would you mind if I took a look at your shoulder, ma’am?”_ _

__“Might as well.” Nora shrugs the tight shoulder subconsciously and begins to shimmy out of her heavy coat as Turner quickly retrieves a chair for the General to sit in._ _

__Turner pulls back the collar of Nora’s blouse and hums under her breath as she observes the mostly-healed site, prodding a bit at the tissue here and there. It is silent as she begins to carefully remove the stitches, but Nora can feel the words itching to come forth from Beth._ _

__“Out with it, Turner. You’re making me anxious.”_ _

__“Sorry, ma’am.” Turner smiles, shaking her head bashfully and chuckling. “It’s just… thanks for giving me a chance, with this promotion I mean.” Nora turns to watch Turner’s face, even if she avoids the General’s contemplative stare. “It means a lot, ma’am. I always wanted to be a part of something like this but ever since I went ghoul—… well, you can guess the rest.”_ _

__“I have some notion.” Nora grunts, turning away to stare hard at the opposite wall for a silent beat. “Before the bombs people were suspicious of me. Didn’t matter how well I did in life or how many people I helped. They were scared of me.” Turner pauses in her attentions for the briefest of seconds to stare at the General’s faraway expression before bowing her head to continue. “Point is—people are fucking assholes as a general rule. Best revenge is your perseverance.”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am.” Turner hushes quietly over the mechanical snips of her scissors. Her tone, however professional, is soft with sentiment._ _

__“Make no mistake—you deserve it, Beth.” Nora smiles, her tone firm and assuring, and Turner glances up into her eyes. “I take a chance on every person I promote, even your Captain. Sometimes they pay off, as they did with her, and other times they don’t. Just make sure you prove me right.”_ _

__Turner’s gaze hardens with determination and she nods, letting out a clipped laugh. “Oh I will, ma’am. Count on it.”_ _

__Nora cocks an eyebrow at the Lieutenant’s brass before the two of them are distracted by the sound of boots pounding up the infirmary stairs in a sprint._ _

__“Hellooo! _Lieutenant_ Beth Turner?” A high, crystal voice sings out just as a blonde recruit pops around the corner of the staircase with a big, sunny smile on her face. “Congratulations— _oh_!”_ _

__The young girl freezes in her tracks, giant blue eyes darting between Turner and the General with slow growing mortification. She begins to redden prettily with the longer she stares at Nora’s smirk, her mouth open with the words stuck in her throat._ _

__“Hey, Jessie.” Beth greets and Nora’s gaze slides over to watch Turner’s expression carefully. It is amused, but underneath that teasing smile is the obvious warmth of affection. _Interesting_. “Awful loud for an infirmary.”_ _

__“Yeah, Bethy—er, I mean, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. Sorry.” Jessica—Nora finally places the familiar face—stumbles over her rushed words, her eyes falling back on the General. “Good morning, General! I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—,”_ _

__“I was just leaving, no harm done.” Nora holds her palms up with a chuckle before buttoning her shirt back up and hanging her coat in the crook of her bent elbow. “I’ll, uh, let you two get back to it, hm?”_ _

__Nora pauses for a moment to observe the way the two women fidget under their General’s watchful eye, looking every bit like two teenagers caught fooling around in one way or another. _ **Very** interesting_. Nora fights very hard to keep from being nosy and simply turns on her heel to escape the growing tension between them. It isn’t long after she’s taken to the stairs that she hears soft, sweet sounds exchanged, and maybe a bashful giggle or two. _ _

__The General steps back out into the dreary weather with her eyes squinting against the harsh, grey light of the day. She pauses to retrieve a cigarette from her breast pocket, her mind wandering to ponder Deacon’s current whereabouts when she hears approaching footsteps. She turns just as Preston jogs up to her with a lighter extended for her cigarette, a small smile touching his face when Nora raises her brow in surprise._ _

__“Well _hello_ there, Colonel.” She greets wryly with an exhale of smoke. “Fancy that, _you_ finding _me_ after the search party I nearly called.”_ _

__“Was it that noticeable?” Preston winces apologetically, rubbing at the back of his neck._ _

__“A bit. _I_ missed you, at least.” Nora winks, leaning her back against the infirmary wall, looking him up and down. “You’re lucky I had Deacon there to eat my leftovers in your absence.”_ _

__“Oh?” A tiny, amused smile lights up his face as he shakes his head and glances around the Castle courtyard—probably trying to distinguish a pair of sunglasses out of the crowd. “When did he get in?”_ _

__“At an ungodly hour this morning, the buffoon.” Nora grumbles, flicking her ashes and shrugging. “He keeps breaking in here, you know. It’s enough to make me doubt the efficiency of my wall.”_ _

__“I wouldn’t be surprised if the watch simply _recognizes_ him at this point, General.” Preston offers, his eyes glancing up as the infirmary door opens to practically spill Beth Turner and the recruit Jessica out into the dirt. The two women are almost too wrapped up in each other to notice Nora and Preston—when they do, however, they blanch and drop their entwined hands to scurry away side by side, straight backed and stiff. _ _

__Nora snorts out a laugh, eyes following the quickly retreating figures with a shake of her head. “Tell me, Preston—is fraternization in this place forbidden?”_ _

__Preston turns back to face Nora, his eyes wide and his lips parted in shock. Nora’s face scrunches up in bewilderment at his misplaced reaction and she narrows her eyes at Preston’s discomfort as she takes a long drag on her cigarette. “Jesus, what’s _that_ look for? I was talking about Turner and that girl.”_ _

__“What—uhm, right.” Preston nods, casting his eyes down as Nora continues to watch him closely. He starts to fidget under her observation._ _

__“Who’d you think I was talking abou—… oh. _Oh_!” Nora’s jaw falls open as she pushes off from the wall, ducking her head in an attempt to catch Preston’s eye. “No fucking way.”_ _

__“General, please—,”_ _

__“Was that where you were this morning?” Nora hisses excitedly, shoving a hand playfully into his chest, though it’s hard enough to make him stumble back a bit. “Didn’t see Curie at breakfast either, now that I think on it.”_ _

__“I’d, um, rather not say.” Preston inhales deeply enough for his chest to puff up a bit, a hint of a bashful smile on his lips._ _

__“Oh man, you dirty fucking dog.” Nora winks, much to Preston’s dismay, and leans up onto her tiptoes to sling an arm around her Colonel to give him a kiss on the cheek._ _

__“It wasn’t like that, General.” Preston insists, though he blushes fetchingly from her kiss and falls into step beside her as she takes off. “We just, um… well, she kissed me.”_ _

__“ _Shit_ , that’s delightful.” She sighs dreamily, nodding in greeting to a few passing farmers before nudging Preston with her elbow. “Where is she? I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”_ _

__“She told me that she wanted to walk along the beach.” Preston has a fond, faraway look in his eyes when Nora glances over at him, and his smile is private and utterly sweet. “She, uh, wants to collect some seashells for me. Said she read about that sort of a thing in books—courtship, that is. She told me she intends to _woo_ me.”_ _

__Nora stops abruptly and Preston, ever watchful, mimics her. He looks to her in question, his eyes darting around her soft expression as she tilts her head thoughtfully and touches a hand to his shoulder._ _

__“And here I thought there wasn’t a person in the world good enough for you, honey.” Nora hushes, beaming up at her friend as he grins and shrugs a shoulder coyly. “I’m happy for you, excuse my prior teasing.”_ _

__“No need, ma’am.” He laughs with eyes that are doting as they study Nora before the two of them ascend the metal steps to reach the top of the wall. “It builds character, right?”_ _

__Nora chuckles at the sight of Curie crouching down in the receding waves below the wall, her delicate, pale hands digging into the wet sand and poking at a handful of sediment in her palm. After a moment Curie looks up upon feeling eyes on her back and when she catches sight of Nora and Preston looking down at her she beams prettily and waves her entire arm vigorously. She calls out a greeting over the soft swells of the ocean and Nora blows a kiss in return._ _

__“So. I promoted Beth Turner from Captain Osborn’s squad.” Nora sighs, keeping her eyes on Curie down below. “She’s now officially Lieutenant Turner.”_ _

__“Good call, General.” Preston turns to look at Nora’s face as a light mist begins to fall mutely from the clouds above them. “From what I hear, Osborn was aiming to do that sooner or later.”_ _

__“Mm.” Nora hums, squinting up at the sky. “And did you hear about Danse’s report from Sanctuary, then?”_ _

__“About the Super mutants?” She nods. “When I was asking around for you I ran into the Major. She filled me in.”_ _

__“So you know of my plans?”_ _

__“I do, and for what it’s worth, I think it’s the best course of action. There is too much to lose in Sanctuary to skirt around the issue.” Preston exhales, removing his hat for a moment to feel the cool kiss of light rain on his scalp. “You still intend to take Captain Osborn’s squad?”_ _

__“That I do. I’d like your suggestion on a second.” Nora turns to look up at him, watching as he crosses his arms over his broad chest in a moment’s consideration._ _

__“Hmm… Well, out of the squads available I’d say Captain Rice’s group is best suited. They just returned from Croup Manor a few days ago where there had been some complaints about those Atom worshippers attempting to case the area.” Preston frowns slightly, staring out at the angry ocean. “I heard they were held up from redeploying due to some nasty cases of rad poisoning.”_ _

__“And they’ve recovered now?” She asks, smiling encouragingly down at Curie when she holds up a starfish the size of her head with seven and a half points instead of five._ _

__“Yes, Major Shaw received Captain Rice’s request for placement this morning.”_ _

__“Perfect, I’ll trust your judgment then—as per usual.” Nora exhales contently, though she feels a tad edgy with Curie’s close proximity to the growing waves. “Go get her, will you? I’ll have to swan dive off this fucking wall if that tide catches her.”_ _

__“Aye, ma’am.” Preston tears his eyes away from Curie momentarily to stare at the General, his expression pulling a bit in concern. “How are you feeling, by the way?”_ _

__“ _Fine_.” Nora waves her hand impatiently before patting her pockets for her pack of cigarettes. She tugs out her pack, frowning when she pulls out the last cigarette and pinches it between her lips. “I’m off, gotta talk to Deacon about the plan tomorrow.” She turns to leave but pauses mid-step and turns back to raise an eyebrow at Preston. “Ask Curie if she wants to tag along back to Sanctuary, yeah? Nothing safer than an armed escort with the General.”_ _

__Preston wilts a bit at the idea and Nora feels guilty, but he smiles and nods despite himself. “Sure, General. Thanks.”_ _

__~~~_ _

__

__Later that night, long since the sky had begun to empty the contents of its clouds with exacting vengeance, Nora and Deacon have retreated to the nearest bar for a brief bit of relaxation and selfish consumption before having to hit the road. As is tradition between the two of them, having found good drinking partners in each other early on in their relationship. And seeing that there is exactly _one_ bar in the entirety of the Castle—the Water Trough—that is where they now lurk. Nora stares across the bar from where the two of them have taken refuge at a table in the darkest, quietest corner, her fingers steepled and her gaze narrowed in observation. _ _

__For the past half hour she has been watching the squads of Captain Osborn and Captain Rice mingling together at a few tables that they had all pushed together, most likely attempting to familiarize before heading out as, essentially, one unit. Their collective excitement is palpable to the other boozers out this late and because of the Minutemen there is a cheerful crackle to the night air._ _

__Occasionally, over the crooning on the radio, Nora can hear the boisterous baritone of Valdez’s infectious laugh, his head thrown back and his teeth almost bright against the dark of his smooth skin. There are some intent eyes on him tonight—more than just the General’s. Nora finds herself more than a bit entertained with watching him juggle the attention on him with flirtatious winks and frequent glances in the General’s direction._ _

__“Uh oh.” Deacon rumbles next to her, his fingers ghosting against the back of her neck as he taps his foot along with the beat of the radio. “I know _that_ look.”_ _

__“Mm?” She grunts, eyes diverting from Ray to watch Lieutenant Turner. The ghoul’s arm is slung around Jessica and her face is ducked down to the girl’s level, the position effectively shutting the two of them off from the rest of the group as much as possible. “What look?”_ _

__“ _That_ one,” He pokes lightly at her cheek. “You’re either horny or angry.” Deacon smiles at the side of Nora’s face, patting along her thigh under the table until he feels the bulge of a pack of cigarettes. He retrieves one easily enough and lights it before sinking back into his seat. “It’s a nice look for you either way. But maybe I’m biased.”_ _

__“Oh yeah?” Nora smirks, rolling her head to the side to look over at Deacon under her lashes. He looks nearly edible in his white t-shirt with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, one fair eyebrow cocked behind his sunglasses._ _

__A slow grin spreads across his face and Nora feels a small thrill of arousal when she sees a peek of his tongue sweeping over his top lip to chase the shine of booze lingering there. Deacon knows what he’s doing—knows that he’s the fucking champ with his tongue and, due to that fact, Nora has begged him for it on more occasions than she’d care to admit. It’s been a hot minute since she’s experienced _that mouth_ and the liquor in her gut is making her boil. _ _

___But_ …_ _

__She glances back over to Ray across the room and is mildly surprised to find his eyes focused on her over the neck of his beer. He quirks his eyebrows up upon their eye contact, his gaze burning her up with the longer she stares._ _

__“Ah… The forbidden fruit?” Deacon teases and she looks back to him guiltily._ _

__“Do you think I’m an asshole?”_ _

__“Nope. That’d take a lot, pal.” He smiles as he leans in close to her, tilting his head to the side as his face hovers inches from hers. “Is he the jealous type?”_ _

__“I’m not sure.” Nora snorts, looking down at Deacon’s lips for a beat longer than necessary. “Not that he has the right to be, anyway.”_ _

__“Wanna test that?” Deacon’s grin turns too sugary to be innocent as he slings his arm around the back of her chair so that her shoulder presses into his chest. “I’m a _great_ wingman.”_ _

__“Mm, yes you _are_.” She purrs, forgetting the game momentarily as he leans forward to duck under the curtain of her hair to press his lips discreetly under her ear. She laughs and checks him playfully with her shoulder. “This is stupid, Deacon.” _ _

__“Sure, but isn’t that the status quo with us, boss?” He laughs, pressing a kiss to her high cheekbone before leaning away to collapse with a contented sigh back into his seat. “Well, that’s alright. Good things come to those who wait, right? I heard that somewhere.”_ _

__“It’s _very_ true.” She promises, shooting him a significant look before taking another sip at her drink. “But, for now…”_ _

__“ _Current_ affairs.” Deacon nudges her bare arm with the icy bottom of his beer bottle, causing her to wrench away with a wince. _ _

__“You know me.” She sing songs under her breath as her eyes fall back onto Ray. If he’s jealous then he’s pretty good at hiding it. He takes a deep swig of his beer as his eyes drift from her face down to her breasts straining against the fabric of her tank top. Nora smirks knowingly when he looks back up to her face. She clears her throat and sees Deacon look up at her from the corner of her eye. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”_ _

__“Figured I’d swap beds with Sasquatch over there.” Nora tilts her head back with a laugh before downing the rest of her drink. “Seeing as he won’t be using it.”_ _

__“Oh yes he will.” She rolls her eyes. Deacon’s expression pulls in amused surprise. “Give it an hour or so—if you need a bed then you’ll have mine.”_ _

__“I’ll think about it.” He shrugs as she leans over to press her lips to his temple, his hand coming up to squeeze her side affectionately as she stands and strides up to the bar._ _

__“Hey there, General.” The woman behind the bar—known as Red to anyone sober enough to ask—smiles at Nora’s approach and leans forward onto the counter. “Another round?”_ _

__“Nah, Red. You got some leftover hot water around?”_ _

__“Might have.” Red looks the General up and down. “I’ll ask Cookie, he oughta have somethin’ left over from dinner. You want it now?”_ _

__“Yeah, as soon as possible—send it to my quarters, will you?” She taps the counter with her palm as she pushes off from the bar. “I need a bath like no fucking joke.”_ _

__“Won’t question that, General.” Red snorts, nodding her goodbye before moving down the bar to attend to some farmers._ _

__Nora turns on her heel and crosses the room to the coat rack to retrieve her jacket, smiling when she hears heavy boots jogging up to catch her by the door._ _

__“Not gonna let me buy you a drink before tomorrow, ma’am?”_ _

__When she turns to face him Valdez smirks down at her, taking a draw on his beer without moving his eyes from her own. She drapes her heavy jacket around her, arching her back as she wiggles into the arm holes. Her eyes travel up and down his body, lingering on the zipper of his jeans before looking up at his face with a perfect mask of indifference._ _

__“Valdez,” She grabs the lapels of her jacket and yanks the fabric forward to adjust the fit around her shoulders. “I want you to come to my quarters in twenty minutes and fuck me.”_ _

__The fight to keep off of her is plain in his eyes, though he does have the presence of mind to look around the immediate vicinity to see if anyone had picked up her voice. Luckily the General’s voice never did carry unless she meant it to._ _

__Nora watches the swallow work in his throat as he looks back to her eyes. “I’d fuck you right here if you told me to.” He hushes with a tautness to his strong body that speaks of his honesty._ _

__“Yeah? Well that’s _not_ what I told you.” She glares up at him, watching the spark of excitement in his eyes at her stern tone. “What did I just fucking say?”_ _

__“You told me to wait twenty minutes, and then come fuck you.” He nearly whispers, absolutely enthralled._ _

__“Good. _Don’t_ be late.” She sneers, leaving him to stare at her back as she pushes through the squeaky bar door._ _

__Anxious and thrilling with anticipation, she walks through the courtyard along the path of sparsely placed oil lamps and straight to her quarters where two Minutemen are already waiting with a few buckets of steaming water. It’s a short process of them helping her wrangle the tub from the tunnels below her quarters and up behind the partition concealing her bed. Once the Minutemen have left Nora undresses and sinks into the overly hot water, wincing and hissing as her icy skin adjusts to the new temperature. She exhales deeply, letting her head fall back with a soft thump against the ceramic of the tub. It isn’t ten minutes before there is a loud pounding at her door._ _

__“ _Jesus_ fuck—,” Nora grumbles under her breath after starting from the loud noise, peaking an eye open for a moment before leaning back. “It’s open!” She hears the creak of the old wood and the heavy scuffs of large boots against the stone floors. “Lock it behind you.”_ _

__Ray appears around the partition shortly after she hears the lock click into place._ _

__“You’re early, fucker.” She smiles tartly, staring at him through the soft rolls of steam that rise from the water._ _

__He freezes mid-step when he comes upon Nora in the tub, his lips parted on a failed response as his eyes linger on her breasts peaking up from beneath the water, shining with moisture. She holds the desperate eyes that search hers for any brand of permission. She gives him none._ _

__“Did I do somethin’ right?” He asks, ripping off his jacket in a fuss and tossing it to the side._ _

__“No. On the contrary—you pissed me off to no end today.” She replies, lifting one sweltering leg out of the water to lean it against the cold rim of the tub. He looks down into the water, swallowing when he catches sight of her spread legs before his eyes wander to watch the bathwater drip off her toes. “This isn’t your reward, it’s _mine_.”_ _

__“Yes, ma’am.” He nearly pants, leaning his weight from one foot to the other as he nearly bounces in place. Nora watches his fists tighten._ _

__“Take off your shirt, Valdez.”_ _

__He reaches a hand back and grabs the collar of his shirt, yanking it forward over his head and tossing it somewhere near his jacket. He takes a moment to run a hand through his hair to tame it before rolling his shoulders and settling mostly-still under her gaze._ _

__Nora lets her eyes wander over his exposed chest and shoulders, a deep breath working through her as a rush of delicious heat thrills straight to her gut. “When’s the last time you bathed?”_ _

__“Today.” He answers, grinning boyishly when her face draws in surprise. “In the ocean.”_ _

__“You—…in the ocean?” Nora laughs, beckoning him over to her with a crook of her finger. He crosses the space between them in a few long strides and looms over her with his hands gripping the edge of the tub. “What about the radiation? And the… filth.”_ _

__“Yeah, well, I know _all_ the best spots.” He winks, unable to keep from staring at her breasts in breathless awe. “God, _smother me_ with those, please. That’s how I want to fuckin’ die, General, mark my _fucking_ words.”_ _

__“Shut up.” She snaps, gripping one of his wide forearms in her hands and tugging until he lets go of the bathtub. She pulls his arm close to her and feels the back of his knuckles accidentally brush against her nipple as she does so. He makes a small, wounded noise at the contact but she ignores him, focusing her eyes on the vulnerable skin of his wrist. Nora leans forward, sniffing at his skin curiously. Under the cigarette smoke he smells like the ocean she remembers from before the war—crisp and cold, like brine and rain. She glances up into his watching eyes as she darts her tongue out to press a soft lick along the prominent tendons running up his wrist. Salt is on the beat of his pulse that quickens with the feel of her tongue._ _

__She can hear his breathing, a bit strained and coming heavy. She looks up at the outline of his erection through his jeans and reaches a hand up to palm it lightly. Humming and smiling in approval, Nora leans back against the wall of the tub and brings both feet out of the tub to hang them off the end of the bath. It’s easy to catch the way his eyes dart over to her bare feet and she smirks before tapping his hip and pointing across the room to her jury-rigged vanity. “There is a bar of soap in the top drawer, get it.”_ _

__Nora presses her thighs together as she watches the muscles in his back stretch as he leans down to reach the drawer and retrieve the soap. He holds it up in question and when she nods he crosses back over to her and awaits her instruction._ _

__“Start with my feet.” She instructs, lifting up a leg and wriggling her toes at him._ _

__Ray bites his lip to hold back a smile and sits at the edge of the tub, grabbing her foot in the air and bending her leg at the knee. He cradles the arch of her foot in one hand while he dips the soap into the water for a good enough lather. When his fingers, slick with bubbles, press into the sore ball of her foot Nora’s eyes flutter shut and a tingle of pure ecstasy erupts at the nape of her neck. He watches her face carefully as he works the soap into her foot, running a strong thumb along her arch in an attempt to knead out the tension there._ _

__“You’ve got real pretty feet.” He mumbles, pressing his knuckles into her heel and applying a rolling pressure that makes Nora slide down into the tub until the lower half of her face is submerged. She watches him with eyes peeking up over the water line, studying his thoughtful expression as he wiggles her pinky toe. “And look at that—red on your toes.”_ _

__“Nail polish.” She explains as he switches feet. “I killed for it.”_ _

__Ray looks up at her with a cute grin at those words, leaning down to bite at her big toe with his back molars—soap and all. Nora scrunches her nose as he spits out the soap in his mouth and onto her carpet, but he’s too focused on massaging her feet to notice her irritation. She allows him to get lost in his work, moving from her feet to her sore calves with firm, rolling caresses that ache so nicely that she begins to feel a wave of beautiful exhaustion run through her._ _

__“Ma’am?”_ _

__Nora starts slightly upon his deep rasp, opening her eyes and adjusting her position in the hot tub so that she sits up straight. “Hm?”_ _

__“Why are you goin’ to Sanctuary with us?” He asks as he grips her knee in both hands to smooth his thumbs on either side of her kneecap. He shrugs when she raises an eyebrow. “Not that I’m complainin’. It’s just… well shit, ain’t like Sanctuary is fuckin’ lacking in muscle, yeah? And you’re sendin’ _two_ more squads just for a couple muties.”_ _

__She considers going into auto-pilot in her explanation, dehumanizing herself further in his eyes by answering with something military-esque: it’s too valuable, too many crops, too many people, one of the largest settlements in the ‘Wealth and only growing more. But then she gets caught up in watching as he squints in concentration at a freckle just above her knee, scratching at it gently with a dull fingernail before he realizes it’s not a speck of dirt. He snorts at himself and soothes the mark with a kiss._ _

__Nora glares at him unintentionally as a flutter of something annoying stirs in her chest. “My son is there.”_ _

__Ray’s eyes, soft brown in the lantern light, look up at her from where his head is bowed over her thigh. He blinks at her stony and almost challenging expression. “Oh—I, uh… didn’t know.”_ _

__“That I had a kid?”_ _

__“Yeah.” His face devoid of his usual impish trouble is actually quite charming and she takes this rare moment to study his features close up. Her eyes trace along the scars marring the whiskey glow of his lovely skin. She notices for the first time that his nose is imperfect from one too many breaks. He looks a bit older than he probably is, even the youth of twenty-somethings can’t hold back the premature aging that comes with this life. Rugged is an accurate description for him—handsome is, too. He’s rare, she realizes._ _

__“Long story, Valdez.” Nora chuckles wearily, not realizing that she was smoothing a hand through his hair until she registers the surprise on his face._ _

__She adjusts the hold on his hair until she is gripping a possessive handful. He can sense the change in the atmosphere and can probably tell she isn’t ready to talk to him about this sort of thing. His eyes shine eager when she arches his neck back to expose his throat. “You really do trust me, don’t you?”_ _

__“Yes.” His voice is strained from the angle of his neck and partly due to the fingernail on her index finger running across his throat like a knife._ _

__“You do whatever I tell you to.” Nora observes quietly as she walks her fingers up his neck. She taps her nails against his chin before tracing the pout of his lips with her index finger. She leans forward with a quiet slosh of bathwater, using one hand to hold his jaw in place as she kisses him. He exhales as he seems to practically melt into her, his tongue meeting hers in a slow, sensual touch that thrums like electricity to his cock._ _

__She withdraws from him with a tug on his bottom lip and releases his hair before standing up, smiling down at the reverent expression on Ray’s face as he watches the soapy water stream down her body._ _

__“ _Fuck_.” He swallows as she turns until her ass is level with his face, plump and shining wet with water. She lowers herself until she is sitting on the edge of the tub with her legs submerged and her back facing him._ _

__“Wash my back.” She tells him with eyes cast over her shoulder._ _

__Nora groans when she feels the slippery press of his palms into her spine. His thumbs run adjacent to each other on either side of her vertebrae, pressing hard enough to soothe the twinge of her sore muscles. She leans back into his touch, letting her head fall to her shoulder when he leans forward to ghost the edge of his teeth along the soft slope of her trapezius._ _

__“Dios mío, quiero que.” He rasps against her skin, his soapy hands sliding along her waist and up her ribs to squeeze her breasts in his wide palms._ _

__She gasps, flinching when he pinches and rolls her nipples between his fingers. A heavy shiver runs through her at the tickle of his breath on her chilled skin. Nora leans her back into his chest, letting her head fall onto his shoulder as he runs his hands greedily up and down the softness of her stomach. His fingers smooth up her sides, trailing soap down the expanse of her arms before he stands up, taking her with him._ _

__“Bend over,” He tells her and presses his hand between her shoulders until she bends over at the waist, gripping the edge of the tub with her hands like claws. Nora can feel the bubbles, slick and light, trailing down the curve of her ass. She looks over her shoulder at him but he doesn’t seem to notice. His mouth is parted as if at loss for words, his eyes burning fiercely with hunger as they trail over the image of her ass jutted out towards him. “Spread your legs.”_ _

__She does, inching the pads of her feet along the bottom of the tub outwards until she has to arch her back to keep her ass up in the air. Ray slaps his hands over his face and groans noisily into his palms, frustrated from the arousal that scalds him. Just to add insult to injury, Nora wiggles her hips back at him in a shameless invitation, the fat of her ass and thighs shaking teasingly. He observes this through a slit in his fingers for only a moment until he lurches forward onto his knees to watch her body’s movements in awe._ _

__“Oh… _my fucking god_.” He sounds on the verge of a spiritual discovery and Nora can’t help but laugh at him. He stands up again, looking like he’s ready to start pacing with all the pent up energy in his thrumming body. With a rumbling growl he strikes a hard slap to her butt cheek, jarring enough to wrench a yelp from her. _ _

__“ _Ow_!” She hisses, biting her lip at the lovely hot sting erupting from the hit. _ _

__“Christ, I can’t help myself,” Ray explains, spreading her cheeks as he kneels behind her. “Hold on to that fuckin’ tub, I mean it.”_ _

__Nora is about to scoff at his stern warning before she is rocked forward by the force of his face burying into her ass, the strength of his fervor drawing out a small sound of surprise from her. His flattened tongue licks a determined path from her mons all the way to ring of muscle just above her cunt. “Oh—… _oh_!”_ _

__Ray responds to her breathless gasp with a muffled masculine noise from where his face is buried, grabbing two handfuls of her hips to pull her back against his face. Her expression pulls into a pleasantly surprised grimace of delight as he continues to coat her with his tongue, swirling a circle around her clit before going back up to her ring._ _

__“That’s… _really_ good.” Is all she manages, forcefully pulling her hips away from his mouth to allow him to breathe. She likes testing his limits as much as he does, but the last thing she needs is for him to pass out. _ _

__“ _Yes_ it is.” He pants, breathing heavily as he flexes his fingers into the flesh of her hips with a bruising squeeze. He pulls her back against his face, focusing his tongue on the tight hole and shuddering out a groan at the wanton sound she emits. He shakes his head between her cheeks wildly with a loud groan, smearing her wetness over his face before pressing another long lick along her slit. “You want more?”_ _

__“If you can fucking fit.” Nora laughs, admittedly a bit doubtful. She’s done this before, yes. Most recently with Deacon, who knew her limits and her tells better than anyone she’s fucked since her husband. She hadn’t thought to try this with anyone other than _Deacon_. _ _

__“Tell me to stop and I will.” He promises, surprisingly soft in comparison to the wet thumb that traces around her ring. She looks back at him, unable to stop herself from arching her ass against him when he slowly, _slowly_ presses the tip of his thumb inside her. She wants to tell him that it’s okay, she can handle him, but then his tongue is back at her clit and her mind blanks. _ _

__Once she relaxes and his thumb has sunken all the way inside her Nora begins to feel the ache of needing to be fucked. The feeling, hollow and insistent, begins to nag at her until she huffs out a whine. “I need you to fuck me now.” She breathes out in a small voice, far beyond the need to be in control anymore._ _

__He eases his thumb out of her and licks his way from her slit all the way up to the end of her spine before he stands up, pressing his hips against her ass to show her how ready he is. “Where?” His raspy voice is strained and winded from barely contained lust._ _

__Nora looks around the room, counting out the bed due to the water still clinging to her soapy body. Her eyes fall onto the table in the middle of the room where she conducts most meetings. _Fuck it_. _ _

__“The table—,” She’s weightless suddenly when he scoops her up into his arms as if she were lighter than air. Her feet have barely met the floor before his body crashes into her back, his strong arms securing around her waist and his lips pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder as he physically walks the two of them across the room._ _

__The air in both of their lungs leaves in a huff when Ray bends her over the table wordlessly, his hand pressing down into her back until she rests the side of her face against the cool, polished wood of her war table. She hears the sound of his zipper coming down followed by the rustle of his jeans being pushed low on his hips. He spits into his palm and she glances back to watch him work his cock until it’s wet before he takes a step forward to line himself up. His first thrust is slow, the stretch making Nora’s eyes roll back and a low whine fall from her lips. She still isn’t quite used to his width._ _

__Ray sucks in a huge breath at the feel of her around him, incredibly wet and snug. He withdraws with a lazy pull, grimacing at the natural resistance of her pussy and letting out a clipped grunt with the next thrust he rocks into her._ _

__“Get me wet.” She says quietly around the two fingers she buries in her mouth and his eyes dart from their point of joining to meet her gaze. He obeys eagerly, sucking at his thumb to get it slick before he presses it against the tight ring of muscle. He can tell that she’s done this before, pre-war vaultie that she is, and just the thought of her getting it up the ass at some point before him, back before things were so fucked up, makes his cock throb inside her._ _

__Nora slaps his hand away after he’s prepared her and removes her fingers from her mouth with a wet pop, tracing her hole with her fingers before testing herself with the stretch of both digits. She wills herself to relax, gulping and smiling broadly at the pain clashing beautifully with the ache of his cock fucking into her with increasing aggression. She presses her forehead down into the wood as she continues to stretch herself, sensing Ray getting riled up at the sight of her fingers disappearing inside her. He exhales loudly through his nose, restless like an animal, and unintentionally digs his fingernails into her hips in his anticipation._ _

__“Oh _fuck me_ —make me come, make me come.” She chokes out, spreading her legs enough for him to curl his arm under her body. His fingers—bless him—go straight for her clit with fast, tiny little circles. In the back of her swiftly emptying mind she’s impressed with his knowledge of her body this early on but is unable to tell him so. Her back begins to arch involuntarily with the growing pressure, a loud groan erupting from her chest at the invading sensations of him working into her and her own fingers spreading inside her. “Faster, fuck you—,” Her back tightens like a coil as her next breath gets caught in her throat, her lungs burning as Ray rocks her against the table. _ _

__Nora winces as one of her legs begins to shake heavily from the desperation raging through her like wildfire, the molten pleasure making her whole body flinch. The blood in her body rushes to her head as she comes, the pressure behind her eyes causing her to sob out his name in something between relief and shock. Her free hand claws at the wood beneath her, holding on for dear fucking life as he curses behind her and nearly stills his hips at the tight clenching that he feels._ _

__“Ah…” Nora pants heavily into the table, hair clinging to her sweaty neck as she carefully withdraws her fingers from her ass. “Use your fingers, now.”_ _

__“You came pretty fuckin’ hard, _Christ_.” He breathes, words slurred around his fingers in his mouth. Nora huffs out a harsh laugh in agreement and flinches at the thickness of his wet fingers sliding into her. She waits patiently, breathing deeply through her nose in an effort to relax. “Oh god—that’s…”_ _

__“Tight.” Nora wheezes, reaching a hand back to rest on his hip. She slows down his thrusts against her until they are sluggish but still deeply penetrating. She whines against the table top, arching her back up into him as the discomfort begins to fade into something beautiful. “More please.”_ _

__“Mmm, yes _ma’am_.” He rasps with a hint of amusement, withdrawing his fingers gently and pulling his hips back away from her. He takes his dick in hand, shining slick from her arousal, and watches as she smears saliva against her hole in preparation before he presses the head of his cock against her. “Ready for me, baby?”_ _

__Nora nods desperately with a grunt, swallowing unsteadily at the sound of his gruff voice. She licks her lips as he begins to push forward against her, his first two attempts failing before she relaxes enough for the thick head to finally pop in. They gasp in unison at the stretch of her muscles around him, nearly sucking him in as he presses a hand firmly into her lower back to steady her._ _

__“ _Cojeme_ ,” Ray laughs breathlessly as he stops halfway inside her, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back. She glances back at him, swallowing dryly at the sight of the muscles in his arms and chest flexing tightly in self-restraint. “I need a fuckin’ second, Christ.”_ _

__“Mhmm.” Nora manages to hum in agreement, feeling lightheaded and delightfully hot. She licks her lips and adjusts herself on the tabletop, leaning up onto her elbows to gain some semblance of control before focusing her gaze back on Ray to watch the fight for sanity play through his body._ _

__Concentrating on the feeling of him inside her—stretching her beyond any limit she’s experienced up to this point—helps the muscles in her body begin to relax in slow increments. She focuses on the pain before allowing it to melt in with the warm pleasure as he begins to inch forward gradually until he’s nearly bottomed out._ _

__“You are— _mmm_ …” Ray pauses, head inclining to the side as he grimaces and pauses again. He grits his teeth as he begins to withdraw in an achingly slow pull. “ _So_ God damn tight.”_ _

__“Oh yeah?” Nora leers at him when he opens his eyes. She pushes back abruptly against him, sheathing him entirely inside of her. Ray’s eyes widen and a guttural noise falls from his lips, his hands flying to take hold of her hips in order to steady her attempts to fuck herself back onto him._ _

__Nora watches a heavy swallow work in his throat as he narrows his burning eyes at her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. She knows that he can see the dare in her eyes, glittering and dark with anticipation. Ray grabs a handful of her hair and yanks her head back until her spine is forced to arch, wrenching a taunting giggle from her strained throat as he looms over her._ _

__“ _Don’t_ fuckin’ tease me.” It sounds like a threat and a question rolled into one. _Are you sure_?_ _

__“What are you waiting for, motherfucker? Huh?” Her eyes roll up to look at him with a sugary smile on her lips. “Come on.”_ _

__The shock of Ray’s first unrestrained thrust against her steals her breath, his eyes holding hers as his free hand comes up to wrap lightly around her throat. His palm is warm and comforting as he fucks her yet it still holds a possessive implication. His pace is strong and deep but not possessing the punishing roughness or the breakneck pace that she usually craves. She can tell that he too has done this before and that he knows how to give her the pain and pleasure that she craves without _hurting_ her. _ _

__Still, despite his adjusted pace his hips are still powerful enough to rock her entire body until she sobs in reverential thanks. He grows in intensity as he presses his forehead against her cheek in concentration, the table inching forward in loud creaks across the stone floor with each push. If she were in her right mind Nora might worry over the table’s reliability in holding up her weight in combination with his body draped over her._ _

__It must occur to the both of them that this won’t last long, for Nora begins to roll her hips in grinding circles back against him and Ray’s grip on her throat begins to tighten._ _

__“Touch yourself for me, baby, yeah?” Ray groans against the corner of her jaw, releasing his grip on her hair to steady himself with a palm pressing into the tabletop beside her. Nora nods, near delirious, and clumsily forces a hand under her stomach to roll her clit between her fingers. The climb to her orgasm is intense yet not always there—a torturously slow build for the both of them. At times she finds herself unable to distract herself from the sounds that he makes behind her, the feeling of his abdominal muscles flexing against her back, his tongue on her earlobe..._ _

__She surprises herself, gasping and stiffening underneath him as a tingling, deeply warm climax rolls through her like a sigh. It is full and lovely and causes a shiver to bloom from the base of her spine all the way to the nape of her neck. It’s perfect when coupled with the stretch of him filling her with staggered thrusts. Nora chokes on a whining sob when his hand moves from her throat to her uninjured shoulder, squeezing hard enough to hurt with his last few thrusts before he pulls out of her abruptly to come over the red handprint on her ass._ _

__“Mm…” Ray breathes out a growling sigh, the sound reverberating in his strong chest. He nuzzles his face into her shoulder, tracing a pattern of lazy kisses up the side of her neck until he reaches her jaw. She shivers at the pleasant warmth of his breath._ _

__“Take me to the bath.” Nora says, voice rough with fatigue._ _

__She can hear Ray swallow amidst his panting, can feel him nod. He pulls up his jeans and zips them before wrapping his arms around her to help her to her feet. They cross the room slowly with Nora leaning her weight into him gratefully, her legs are tender and her footing is unsure. The water is no longer hot but more so bordering on tepid; she is almost grateful, due to how sweaty and overheated she feels. As Nora is sinking down into the water, Ray splays out on the cool stone floor._ _

__“Ah _fuck_ ,” He shouts out mid-stretch, exhaling loudly through his nose in satisfaction. A loud pop sounds from his spine and he growls like a bear. “That’s nice...”_ _

__“Keep it down.” Nora grumbles, wincing as she reaches underneath her to wash away his semen._ _

__Ray’s head pops up over the edge of the tub, his eyes half-lidded with sleepy contentment and a lopsided grin on his lips. “Coulda said the same for you a minute ago, ma’am.”_ _

__“You could have. But then, no one knows who is fucking me in here, so I can be as loud as I want.” Nora cuts her eyes over to him. “It isn’t out of the ordinary for me to get fucked, Ray. It’s out of the ordinary for _me_ to fuck _you_. Got it?”_ _

__“Yeah, yeah. Got it.” He rolls his eyes and rests his chin on the tub to watch with mild interest as she cleans herself. “Is that what the bald guy with the shades is here for?” He holds the stare that she turns on him. “He your boyfriend or somethin’?”_ _

__“No, he’s not. Not that it’s any of _your_ concern.” Nora snorts, flicking bathwater at him. Ray simply closes his eyes when the droplets spray his face, unfazed. She lets that sit for a moment, her eyes darting to him discreetly before her face pulls snobbishly. “Why? You jealous, Valdez?”_ _

__“ _Hmm_.” His face scrunches up theatrically in thought. _Shithead_. “I don’t think you’d like it if I was.”_ _

__She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, you’ll feel what you feel.”_ _

__“Oh yeah?” He laughs, his eyes darting around her expression. “Well then—I didn’t fuckin’ like it when he kissed you. Or touched you. It pissed me off, but these days I’m tryin’ to control my temper.”_ _

__Nora smiles sourly at him, inclining her head as she watches the amusement swim in his eyes. “Cute.”_ _

__“Besides,” He exhales, picking at a chip in the ceramic of the tub. “It ain’t like you’re mine—to be jealous over, anyway. Right?”_ _

__She throws a glance at his impish grin over her shoulder as she steps out of the bath. After wrapping a threadbare towel securely under her arms she tosses her wet hair distractedly, attempting to comb through it with her fingers. “True enough, Valdez.”_ _

__Ray watches her go about her nightly ritual from his spot on the floor. A faint smile touches his lips as she walks over to her vanity and begins to tear a hairbrush through her hair. He huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “You’re a pre-war broad, alright. Shit.”_ _

__“While that’s true, I can’t fucking fathom why you’d say it.” She meets his eyes through the spotted mirror in front of her._ _

__“Just…” He trails off as he stands up and shrugs before leaning forward on one leg to snatch up his shirt from the floor. “I remember a few years ago I was wanderin’ around an old Fallon’s and I found a pre-war ad for… I don’t know what the fuck it was, powder or somethin’ that chicks use.” Nora fights against the smile that tickles in her cheeks. “Whatever, the broad in the picture was sittin’ just like you are, in front of one of those desk things with the mirror and she had all these little teeny bottles lined up. She was brushin’ her hair with a big, stupid smile on her friggin’ face.”_ _

__She watches the way his big, scarred hands gesticulate animatedly with his description. “Oh?”_ _

__“Yeah—you look like her. I mean not _really_ , cause she was some scrawny white lady but… you look,” He looks down at his palms in his search for the right word. “Fancy. You look _fancy_. Like you own the fuckin’ Commonwealth when you’re sittin’ there like that, brushin’ your hair.”_ _

__Nora pauses for the slightest of seconds to look at him over her shoulder but he’s busy wrangling his head into the hole of his shirt, grumbling from the struggle of it. She turns back to her mirror just as his head comes through the collar. “I do own the Commonwealth.”_ _

__“Shit, as far as I can tell, ma’am.” She catches sight of his grin as he shrugs into his coat, tugging the collar tightly around the back of his neck. “Uh… forgot to mention somethin’ earlier—got distracted.”_ _

__Ray crosses the distance between them until he stands behind her, gripping the armrests of her chair and leaning down until his face is beside hers in the reflection of the mirror. A small shiver runs up her spine at his close proximity to her neck. “Hm?”_ _

__“You made a good call with Bethy—uhm, Lieutenant Turner.” A handsome smile lights up his eyes. “She’s a fuckin’ champ, General, no joke. Wicked smart, too.”_ _

__Nora blinks and nods curtly. “Not that I asked you.”_ _

__A single eyebrow arches on Ray’s forehead before he hangs his head with a laugh, leaning down to press a warm, wet kiss to her formerly-injured shoulder. “Yeah, not that you asked.”_ _

__“Speaking of the Lieutenant,” Nora narrows her eyes with a smirk. “I saw her and that girl cozying up tonight. What’s her name? Jessica?”_ _

__Ray’s face when he looks back up into the reflection is a surprisingly skilled mask of confusion. “Dunno what you mean, General.”_ _

__Unable to help herself, Nora barks out a laugh with her head thrown back to rest on Ray’s shoulder. He desperately holds back a smile at the rare sight of the General’s unrestrained mirth. “I don’t know who started the fucking rumor that sex in the Minutemen is forbidden, but they ought to get laid.”_ _

__Ray blinks, a slow smile spreading on his face. “Suppose I should tell Bethy, huh?”_ _

__“Someone has to. Don’t think I can stand the deer in headlights look one more damn time.” She grumbles with a low chuckle, reaching up to tap the side of his face in a light slap. “Go away now, Valdez. I’m tired.”_ _

__“Right, adios.” He grins, pausing in his departure to turn back to Nora and nuzzle his face in her scalp, breathing in her scent obnoxiously loud. “Mmm, shit you smell _good_.”_ _

__“Ugh, fuck off to sleep please.” She snaps, her arm arching behind her in an attempt to slap him away but he jumps out of her reach just in time with a boyish giggle. She turns in her chair to glare after him as he jogs over to the double doors. “…And bring some fucking warm clothes tomorrow, it’s going to rain!”_ _

__Ray looks over his shoulder with his teeth biting into his grin, saluting sloppily as he unlocks the door. “Aye, ma’am.”_ _


	10. Mayor

In the end, Curie stays with Preston at the Castle. It wasn’t much of a fight, if Nora had to guess. She can imagine that Preston would have listed the reasons that Curie _might have_ wanted to return to her lab in Sanctuary and the darling woman would have blinked her beautiful, gleaming eyes at the Colonel and that would be it. Nora couldn’t count the number of times that _she_ had melted under Curie’s voice and wide, honest eyes—the idea that smitten _Preston_ could sway her in any way was laughable. 

Nora smiles at that thought from where she leans against the outside wall of the Old State house, flicking the ashes off her cigarette as she watches Harry Gould and Carrie Higgins attempt to wrangle Hancock’s stubborn brahmin into submission. The rest of the squad looks on in various states of exhaustion, unimpressed and irritable. The creature hasn’t budged since it walked through the front gates.

“Harry, I’ve been birthin’ brahmin since I could walk.” Carrie huffs, pushing her fringe out of her red face with the back of her wrist. “Hell, I’m the closest thing to a brahmin you can get without actually bein’ one, I’d bet. _So_ I’m tellin’ you that you can’t make her go if she don’t want to.”

“If I stick her she will.” Gould replies quietly, calm as you please with his words slurred by the cigarette clamped between his lips. “She’s just stubborn is all.”

“ _You’re_ stubborn. And stupid. You stick this poor thing and I’ll gladly watch her trample you.” Carrie snaps before turning back to the brahmin in question, cooing under her breath and patting the beast behind the ears. 

After parting ways temporarily with Deacon and Captain Rice’s squad at Diamond City, Nora and the squad currently operating under Lieutenant Turner’s command made their way to Goodneighbor to return their borrowed brahmin and to pick up their synth. Due to the general pigheadedness of said fucking brahmin the group was nearly two hours behind schedule. At this rate they might as well have waited with Rice’s squad in Diamond city and then continued on to Goodneighbor as a group. She sighs, glaring up at the midday sky with no shortage of contempt. _To stay the night in Goodneighbor or to keep going and possibly march on through the night_ …

“Hello.” Nora flinches slightly in surprise at the deep tone beside her and turns to watch the figure approaching her.

“Fahrenheit. Hey.” She nods in greeting, wordlessly offering up her pack of cigarettes to Hancock’s bodyguard. 

Fahrenheit shakes her head and slides her eyes over to the squad of Minutemen crowded around the snorting brahmin. “Ah, Shit-for-Brains returns.”

Nora frowns for a moment in confusion before following the woman’s gaze until it falls on the two-headed cow. She snorts when the comprehension hits. “Geez, what a fitting name.”

“Thanks for bringing the brahmin back.” Fahrenheit drawls, giving the General a slow look up and down. “I suppose you’re waiting to speak to Hancock, then.”

“I am.” Nora sighs, watching a few members of the Neighborhood Watch attempting to escort Shit-for-Brains back to its pen. “Is his majesty taking visitors at this ripe hour of…” She glances down at her pipboy. “Three PM?”

Fahrenheit smiles quietly and without much warmth, eyes hooded as she continues to stare at the side of Nora’s face. “He wants to see your soldiers.” 

Nora turns to raise an eyebrow at the woman. “Why?”

“Didn’t bother to ask.” Fahrenheit shrugs, tilting her head in the slightest show of insolence. “Whenever you’re ready, _General_.”

“Hm.” Nora hums—choosing to ignore the younger woman’s attitude—and ruffles her rain-damp hair before pushing off from the wall and stepping on her discarded cigarette. She clears her throat loudly enough to catch the squad’s attention, beckoning them over with two fingers as she exhales smoke through her nose. “Alright kids, follow me.”  
The Minutemen fall in behind her as Nora leaves Fahrenheit to help with the brahmin wrangling. Squinting in the dim lighting of the building, she makes her way up the winding staircase at a leisurely pace, nodding in greeting to the guards posted throughout the State House. They know her even if she forgets their names just about every time she leaves Goodneighbor—her memory is almost as bad as her near-sighted eyes these days.

“I’ve never been in here before…” She hears Kyle Sims mumble excitedly under his breath as Nora strides towards Hancock’s usual haunt. She pushes open the doors with a grunt, blowing the double doors wide open to reveal the cozy room within. Hancock is there alright, lounging on the couch with his legs propped up amidst empty inhalers on the coffee table in front of him. His hat hangs low over his eyes and if it weren’t for the curls of smoke sneaking out from under the brim she would think him asleep.

“The General arrives at last…” Hancock announces grandly when Nora comes to a halt at the end of the coffee table. The squad stands in a neat line just in front of the doorway, looking around the messy room with wide, curious eyes. 

“What tipped you off?” Nora drawls, leaning her weight to one hip and crossing her arms on her chest. 

“The boots—I could recognize the sound of your boots _anywhere_ ,” He replies, flicking the rim of his hat so that it sits back properly on his head. He turns his head to her with a lazy grin, black eyes intense with the look that he trails up and down her body. “Hey there, sunshine.”

Hancock stands up with a spry bounce and straightens his coat before he saunters over to her, completely ignoring the Minutemen behind her in favor of taking in the image of Nora’s messy, damp hair and full uniform—devoid of the ridiculous hat, as always. 

“How are you?” Nora allows him a small, indulgent smile as he approaches, her toes curling in her boots with the crackling heat of his presence. 

He’s always had a certain effect on her even if they had never fucked—or anything actually serious beyond constantly egging each other on. Theirs was a volcanic friendship, waiting to overflow at any moment with neither one of them willing to admit defeat. It was simultaneously exasperating and thrilling. Like a high school romance that never quite reached its peak, forever in the limbo of bated breath and electric nerve endings, teasing and flirting and blushing. 

“Fuckin’ peachy now that you’re here.” He stops in front of her, tapping the heels of his boots together and lacing his hands behind his back in mock-professionalism. “And I feel better now that Shit-for-Brains is back, of course. We missed her dearly in her abrupt conscription into the Minutemen.”

“She’s been released on a dishonorable discharge, I’m afraid.” She smirks and Hancock laughs merrily. “That is one useless fucking animal, Hancock.”

“ _Aw_ —and here I thought you’d appreciate her spunk.” Hancock, consciously or not, takes a step closer to Nora with his eyes zeroed in on her lips. She can feel a shift in comfort from the line of Minutemen to her right. “Speaking of Sunshine, it appears that you owe me another favor, hm? Sheesh, how many does that make now?”

“More than I imagine you need.” Nora tilts her head to the side in the slightest show of a taunt, enjoying the pleased twinkle that flashes in his black eyes. There is a meager clearing of someone’s throat amongst the squad, probably an attempt to break the two out of their trance, but it is completely lost on the General and the Mayor. 

“With anyone other than you, Sunshine? You bet,” He smirks, a peek of his tongue tracing the edge of his teeth with his next grin. “But you know, General, the curious trend with these promised favors is that you never _deliver_. That makes a man wonder if you’re just teasin’ him.” 

“I’ll deliver, Hancock.” A curve of a smile unfurls in the slightest with the sparkle of wicked assurance in her eyes. “Just say the word.”

“Get a room, will you?” Nora turns at Fahrenheit’s unamused drone even as Hancock continues to trail his eyes over her face. The woman stands in the doorway beside the soldiers, arms crossed on her chest and a hint of impatience in her scowl. “Hancock, the _Minutemen_ are here—you wanted to see them, remember?”

Hancock turns his head slowly in Fahrenheit’s direction while letting his eyes linger pointedly on Nora’s expression before he finally looks over at the squad. 

“That they are. The cavalry in all their glory! Though I have to admit, I don’t recognize _all_ of you,” He pauses, pointing at Turner, Valdez, and Gould. “Only you three.”

“Harry Gould, Ray Valdez, and Lieutenant Beth Turner.” Nora introduces them properly, standing close enough to Hancock for their shoulders to touch. Her skin heats and tingles with the proximity. “Turner was recently promoted.”

“ _Well_!” Hancock drawls with a grin, looking to Beth. “Congratulations are in order then, yeah?”

“Thank you.” Beth smiles conservatively at the Mayor, glancing to Nora briefly. 

“That’s Carrie Higgins,” She continues, pointing to the tall woman beside Beth. “And finally, Kyle Sims.”

“Shit, quite the crew you’ve got here, General. Very nice.” Hancock smiles in approval, nudging her waist with his elbow. He looks over the assembled Minutemen, lingering for a moment on Valdez and snorting out a laugh. “I remember this one—Christ, where’d you find _him_?”

“He found us, actually.” Nora answers, joining Hancock in his observation of Ray. The aforementioned, as always, seems to enjoy the customary comments on his impressive physique. Ray straightens up a touch and his eyes flicker to watch Nora, the ghost of a self-assured smirk in his expression. “Came all the way from Baja.”

“Baja, huh?” Hancock’s scarred brow rises as he trails his eyes over Ray’s arms with no attempt to disguise his intrigue. “Long hike.”

“Sure was.” Ray nods, leaning his weight back and forth between his feet. 

“Hancock,” Fahrenheit speaks up from behind the mayor. “Shit-for-Brains is back with Daisy.”

“Fantastic. Nice job with the rodeo, Fahrenheit.” Hancock claps his bodyguard on the back, gripping her shoulder and giving her a good-natured shake. “And thanks for bringing in the troops, I’m happy to see them back here in one piece after our first meeting.”

“You done with them?” Nora asks Hancock and he nods, snapping a jaunty salute to the line before striding over to collapse onto his couch into a mirror of the position he was originally in. She turns to her soldiers and ushers them away with a wave of her hand. “Kindly fuck off, kids, this calls for privacy. Gear up, dick around, what have you—but don’t die, please; I need you ready to go.” 

“Aye, aye ma’am.” They chorus, varying degrees of amusement on their faces as they salute and turn to leave. 

“Fahrenheit,” Hancock says with his eyes focused on Nora’s face. “Take the soldiers to The Third Rail—drinks on me, alright?”

Fahrenheit blinks, looking between the two of them before a small, wry smile spreads across her face. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Nora groans in relief as soon as the door closes behind Fahrenheit and the prying eyes of Turner’s squad. She shimmies out of her heavy, damp coat and tosses it on the arm of the sofa opposite Hancock before collapsing into the musty cushions. “My fucking feet ache.”

“Want a massage?” Hancock asks around a cloud of smoke before he tosses her his pack of Grey Tortoise’s. She catches it midair and taps the filter of a cigarette against her knee before lifting her ass to retrieve her lighter from the front pocket of her pants. She tosses the pack onto the table after she lights up.

“No—and don’t distract me, I’m here on serious business.” She tells him, blowing a ring up into the air lazily. 

“I’ll say…” He chuckles, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “Haven’t seen you in that getup in a while.”

Nora hisses in relief when she unlatches her combat armor and tosses it beside her on the couch, freeing her crushed chest. She scratches at the indents in her skin from her armor before arching her back to pop her spine. “Yeah, well I haven’t seen _you_ in a while.”

“A couple weeks, at least.” He agrees, watching her movements with interest. “We really oughta go on another one of our old runs. Catch up real nice and proper, you know? I miss those.”

Nora eyes the empty Jet canisters strewn about the coffee table between them, her mind wandering to the days when they would spend nights cooped up in the State House just talking and staying blissfully fucked on whatever they could get their hands on. Hancock was her escape when she felt like too many judgmental eyes had been cast upon her. He didn’t tend to ask questions unless she wanted him to and even then he was remarkably neutral. She sighs a bit mournfully, glancing at her General’s coat. “Yeah, well now I have responsibilities.”

“Shit, you’re preachin’ to the choir.” He holds his arms out wide in a gesture to his trash kingdom, flopping his boots loudly onto the table and knocking off some of its contents. “Though if I know you at all then I _know_ you make yourself run a tight ship—or, castle I guess.”

“Yes, I find that to be one of my more infuriating qualities.” She examines her nails before letting her head fall against the back of the couch. “ _Anyway_ … you’re distracting me.”

“Oops.”

“Well firstly, thank you for helping me the other day.” Nora leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Hancock smiles and bows his head an inch in response, his eyes glued to the image of her lips wrapped around her cigarette. “I’m sure Lieutenant Turner told you of the situation at the time.”

“You know, I offered to come down to help out,” He sighs, holding his palms up in a shrug. “ _But_ the Lieutenant insisted that her dear old General had the situation under control.”

“The sentiment is noted and appreciated.” She smirks, feeling a bit of warmth in her chest at his blasé way of telling her that he was worried. If anyone was loyal to a fault, it was Hancock. “Now, Deacon should be here soon—,”

“Hm...” Hancock hums pointedly and Nora rolls her eyes and continues. 

“We’re picking up a package to take to Taffington.” She continues, and Hancock nods in understanding. No more needs to be said on that, thankfully. “ _Also_ … I’m apparently having some Mutant troubles on the home front.”

“Sanctuary?” He asks with a frown and Nora nods. “Shit. Do you need me there?”

“No, I’m heading there with two squads plus those already stationed.” She shakes her head and takes a long drag on her cigarette. “Plus, you know—we have Danse.”

“Right, your beloved tank. How could I forget?” Hancock laughs, spreading his arms along the back of his sofa. He eyes Nora thoughtfully, crossing his ankle on his knee to bounce his foot absently. “Speaking of… That’s one big motherfucker you’ve got there—the one from Baja.”

Nora’s lips twitch at his words but she manages to keep a relatively straight face. She clears her throat and nods coolly. “Yup… He’s something, alright.”

“He’s real _pretty_ too, General.” Hancock grins when Nora raises a brow wryly at him. “Smart operating, that—something to soften the eyes after a hard day’s work of terrifying all the little soldier boys.”

“He used to be a raider.” Nora blurts out, inexplicably craving his opinion. 

Hancock’s smile falters with surprise more so than disapproval. His brow rises in interest and his eyes travel up and down Nora’s rigid posture, trying to fish out whether or not she’s joking. “Well, well, well… So The Boogeyman recruits one of her victims into her righteous army—sounds like something straight out of a storybook.”

“Boogeyman.” Nora scoffs at the title. “Yes, well, that’s a secret. He doesn’t want his squad to judge him, I suppose. So zip it.”

“So how do _you_ know?” Hancock tilts his head, a shine of his teeth showing with his next smile. She feels the bloom of a blush touching at her ears under his stare and looks away from him petulantly. 

“I’m fucking him.” She admits after a moment of deliberation and Hancock bites his lip through the wide grin of delight that spreads across his face. “I found him at Libertalia and fucked him instead of killing him and now I can’t stop fucking him and it’s a big mess.”

“Libertalia… I heard a little rumor that you took that place on by yourself.” Hancock’s eyes bore into hers with no small amount of heat and she fidgets under his attention. “Heard it was a bloodbath.” 

“Did you…” She trails off and closes her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, and I don’t see the problem.” He shrugs when she scowls at him. “What? Are you not allowed to get laid because you’re the Queen of the Commonwealth?”

“Well if I’m not then I’ve long since broken _that_ rule.” Nora smirks, meeting his eyes deliberately before she rolls her tight shoulder. She looks down at her hands, picking at the calluses on her trigger finger. “It just feels distinctly like I’m taking advantage—or some such shit.”

“Why? Do you order him to fuck you?” Hancock asks.

Nora glowers. “No, of course not. Not in any official capacity.”

“Oh? Well, I’ll file _that_ away for further thought.” He hums, eyes brightening with mischief. “Why then?”

“Because he’s young and he makes me feel old simply by existing.” She grumbles. “And I’m his superior—even if it’s consensual it still feels like I’m a fucking asshole.”

“Aw, see now you’re just bullying yourself.” He laughs softly. 

“I don’t know why I’m even talking about this.” She exhales through her nose impatiently before throwing her hands up. “I think I’m just troubled by him—he’s very… _dedicated_ to me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Hancock waves her words away with his hand. “You have that effect. Why do you think _I’m_ so starry eyed?”

“I don’t want him to get attached—that’s it. I can’t handle that.” Nora shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Damn it, I wanted you to judge me, Hancock—I see that’s backfired.”

“I try not to judge—feels like a slippery slope in my position.” He shrugs at her when she sighs. “You’re usually good at controlling this kind of attention. How come this is different?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring over his shoulder at the summer rain tapping against the window softly. “He’s trying to be a better person and I strangely find myself _rooting_ for him.”

“Seeing the good in others, huh? How sweet.” 

“I’m _trying_ to—he’s still a fucking pain.” Nora grunts and realizes that she had been smiling during her explanation. She frowns deeply to erase the feeling. “Deacon thinks he looks a bit like Nate.”

“Ouch.” Hancock hisses, shaking his head and flicking at a speck of dust on his arm. “That’s a bit of a low blow.”

“No, he didn’t say it to hurt me.” She shakes her head, glancing at her lighter on the table. The ‘D’ carved there brings a soft smile to her face. “He’s _looking in_ on Valdez, though, which is interesting. I don’t know if I want him to.”

“Huh. Deacon is somethin’ alright…” Hancock raises an eyebrow and huffs out an unamused laugh. He points at Nora with the hand that balances his cigarette. “Nothing good will come out of his meddling, trust me.”

“Maybe.” Nora mumbles thoughtfully. “He can’t help it, anyway—it’s his job. And he means well.”

“I know he does, Sunshine, that’s what I’m worried about.” 

Nora holds Hancock’s stare for a long moment before she lets out a huge breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. She felt… good, actually. Like a few pounds of the near-constant weight on her shoulders had been lifted. Hancock always was her impromptu therapist with matters she might feel ashamed to take to Preston or Danse. Or when, like now, Deacon was too involved in the situation. It was nice to have someone who was probably on the same level of depravity as you at all times—less room to judge that way.

“I’ve missed you I just realized.” Nora laughs, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks when Hancock grins wickedly at her and touches a hand to his chest in faux-coyness.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls, leaning forward suddenly and letting his boots fall to the floor. 

The energy in the room shifts back to their usual tightly coiled tension and Nora revels in it. It isn’t often that she gets to bounce her overt sexuality off of someone who can match her word for word, dare for dare. Hancock is one of the few who is not intimidated by her and she clutches to his rarity desperately. He is an indulgence for Nora in every sense of the word.

“Yes.” She says quietly, wetting her lips absently. Hancock’s eyes focus in on the shine of her tongue. “You know… Lieutenant Turner relayed to me that you intended to finally give me a _tour_ of Goodneighbor.”

“Good woman—I was worried she wouldn’t pass that on.” He smirks, black eyes near-scalding behind the swirls of smoke drifting from his mouth. “That could be considered a _favor_ , you know.”

“A favor is a stupid way to put it.” Nora rolls her eyes, crossing her legs under his rapt attention. “Makes it seem like I don’t want it as badly as you do.”

He narrows his eyes in amusement before trailing his gaze shamelessly to travel the length of her legs. “See, _this_ could be considered teasing.”

“Oh _please_ ,” She purrs, leaning towards him to blow a cloud of smoke into his face. He shuts his eyes against the onslaught, his head tilted with a slow grin. “Don’t act like a layman, Hancock—you’re far from it.”

“And how would _you_ know?” He asks, turning his head to watch when she stands and walks over to the window behind him. “You’re running on assumptions, Sunshine—you really oughta find out for yourself.”

Nora blows hot breath onto the window until it fogs, blurring the passing figures below. She pauses for a moment, inclining her head back an inch as she hears him rise to his feet. “Well when your voice alone is enough to make me wet, it’s easy to make assumptions about what else you can do.”

Hancock is at her back quickly enough that it surprises her, his body walking hers forward slowly but forcefully until he has her boxed in against the window. His hands come around her to anchor on the windowsill in front of her and his breath, hot with a laugh, tickles her ear. “I don’t think I believe that. Why don’t you prove it to me, huh?”

“Fine,” Nora breathes, mirroring his hands on the edge of the window as she leans her face up to his until her lips hover a tempting inch away from his scarred jaw. “Unbutton my pants.”

He does so casually enough to make her teeth clench, especially when he takes obvious care not to touch her in any way. Still, the tugs of his fingers plucking at the button and then the pull of her zipper is enough to make her body heat up. She pushes his hands back to their position on the window before sticking her own hand down the front of her trousers, touching herself just a second longer than necessary before bringing her fingers up to show Hancock the shine of them. 

“Mm…” The sound he emits rumbles through his chest and into her back where he is pressed against her, one of his hands coming up to encircle her wrist in his grip. He turns her hand against the light as if trying to memorize the image of wetness before he brings her fingers to his mouth. He doesn’t suck on them like she wants him to but instead darts his tongue out carefully, the warm tip of it tracing the pad of her middle finger to taste her. Subconsciously her back arches against him, pushing the curve of her ass against his hips and Hancock moves a hand to steady her. 

“Told you.” She laughs, the sound wicked and deep, and yanks her hand from his grip. Hancock’s hand remains in the air where it had been holding her wrist, his fingers flexing in her absence. 

A smattering of obnoxiously loud knocks on the door behind them is all the forewarning Nora and Hancock get before the double doors swing open. Frozen in her compromised position, she turns her head towards the intruder with a practiced glare at the ready. Deacon stops mid-step as he strides into the room, eyebrows high on his forehead behind his sunglasses. She can feel his eyes traveling over the position of the two in front of him, his head tilting to look at Nora’s unbuttoned pants. 

“This… wasn’t in the script.” He finally says, tone thick with held back laughter. “Should I try that again?”

“Nope.” Hancock huffs out a laugh, stepping back from Nora with his palms raised in defeat. “You ever knock, man?”

“Not if I can help it.” Deacon smiles sugary sweet. “I mean, not when I can stumble headfirst into awkward situations like this, right?” 

Nora sucks in her stomach to zip up her pants before rolling her hips around to adjust them until they’re comfortable. She turns to fix Deacon with a stern frown that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not awkward—you just ruined the fucking moment is all.” 

“Oh, that’s all?” Deacon theatrically mimes wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Phew! I was worried for a second, there.”

“Yeah whatever—how was Diamond City?” Nora asks, walking over to Deacon as Hancock makes his way back over to his couch to collapse into its cushions. 

“Decent enough.” He considers, shrugging one shoulder up jerkily. He’s nearly unrecognizable in his Minuteman getup, curiously enough. Usually she can spot him a mile away. “Saw the sights, got some stuff done, met up with the caravan… Oh! Piper has a new girlfriend.”

“What? Already?” Nora frowns, looking Deacon up and down distrustfully. “She didn’t tell _me_ that.”

“ _Wellll_ … She didn’t tell me either, actually. I witnessed it from afar and I’m only _guessing_ it’s a new girl—I couldn’t see that well. It was a blonde, that’s all I know.” 

“You might need glasses.” She hushes conspiratorially and Hancock snorts from the couch.

“Hm, _maybe_. Would it be tacky to wear glasses underneath my shades?” He frowns in thought, tapping his chin.

“You’re already pretty tacky, so I think you’re safe.” Nora flicks her fingernail against the lens of his shades, making him flinch. 

“Boy, do I hope you never do _that_ again.” Deacon smiles tartly at her—almost indistinguishable from his real smile—and removes his sunglasses to quickly clean them with the hem of his shirt. 

“I don’t think that storm is gonna let up.” Hancock speaks up, lighting up a new cigarette and laying his head back on the couch to blow smoke lazily into the air. “What are your plans?”

“Hmm.” Nora sighs, looking to Deacon as she thinks. _What do you think_? His lips pout in consideration before he shrugs. _Whatever_ , he seems to say. She looks over her shoulder at Hancock. “How’s the vacancy at the Rexford?”

“Couldn’t say.” Hancock says noncommittally, tapping the ashes from his cigarette onto the floor. 

“Enough for…” Nora counts in her head. “A caravan, ten Minutemen, plus a General and an imposter?”

“That’s gonna be one hell of a bill, partner.” Deacon mumbles.

“Fuck.” Nora sighs, thinking quickly through her options. Walking in the rain is hard enough, but to try to find appropriate shelter out in the Commonwealth in the cold is just plain dangerous. It would be useless to Sanctuary to show up with a band of sniffling soldiers. “I think I have the caps on hand—whatever, I’ll figure it out.”

“No need,” Hancock stands and shakes his leg at the pins and needles sensation he feels. “I’ll cover it for you.”

“No, Hancock, really—,”

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Hancock smiles, the expression charming and soothing. He approaches Nora and rests a hand on her shoulder, attempting to calm her stiff posture with a friendly squeeze. “Count it as another favor, yeah?”

Nora stares at him for a moment, trying to filter out any uncertainty in his eyes— _loyal to a fault_ , she reminds herself. “Yeah, okay. A favor _and_ I’ll pay you back.”

“Deal.” Hancock tilts his head with a congenial smile. 

Nora lays her palm against the side of his neck and pulls Hancock forward to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.” She hushes into his ear.

“Your army is down in The Third Rail.” Deacon pipes up when Nora pulls away. “Along with the package.”

“ _What_?” Nora’s face scrunches up in surprise.

Deacon pauses with the presence of Hancock, apprehensive out of habit. “Yup—he’s been wiped already.”

“Right, I know that. I just figured he’d stay with Amari until we picked him up.” 

Deacon shrugs. “Can’t do any harm, I guess. He’s with the Minutemen last I checked, and he knows that he’s going to Taffington with us.”

“I better get down there, I suppose.” Nora sighs and ruffles her hair with her fingers, thanking Hancock when he hands her the discarded pieces of her uniform. “You coming, Hancock?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid.” Hancock shakes his head, holding up a box of unopened Mentats and rattling its contents. “I’ve got an appointment to keep.”

“Mm, right.” Nora stares at the Mentats wistfully, frowning as she looks up into his eyes. “I’ll be back here once this whole thing in Sanctuary blows over, hm? We can catch up more thoroughly.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Hancock rumbles low in his throat, meeting her eyes pointedly before she turns to follow Deacon out the door.


	11. Taffington

Deacon adjusts a beer bottle minutely, squinting at the line of identical bottles that he had arranged on the small table beside him before turning to Nora as he points down the line. “Eeny,” The first bottle. “Meeny.” The second. “Miny.” The third. “Moe.” The fourth.

“Moe.” Nora tells him after a moment of careful consideration, holding out a hand to accept the beer handed to her. It’s foaming over after Deacon broke the cap off on the railing of the porch they currently sit on, looking out over the lake behind Taffington House. She rushes to lick up the beer foam running down her wrist, sucking up the bubbles loudly and humming in appreciation of the taste.

“Just one, right?” Deacon asks with the sunny inflection of teasing, mimicking her words from last night at The Third Rail. 

Nora scoffs and tips her head back, gulping down a mouthful of blissfully cold beer. She smacks her lips at the carbonation. “This time I mean it.”

“Sure thing, pal.”

After a night spent crammed in the Rexford Hotel, the Minutemen plus one caravan left Goodneighbor tired and—despite some denial—a bit hungover. Belated celebrations over Beth Turner’s promotion were had at The Third Rail and Nora could admit that she too had participated in those festivities. She had found out just how contagiously fun her Minutemen could be—especially with Ray Valdez in the mix. Nora concluded that Valdez _must_ be a freak of nature due to the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed that night while still maintaining the ability to function the next day. In all honesty she thought she would have had to leave him in Goodneighbor to recover—until, that is, he came stomping down the steps of the Rexford two at a time and jogged into the lobby with his mouth stuffed full with Deathclaw jerky and his eyes bright with anticipation for the day. Unaffected and fidgeting with the energy to get going.

The trip from Goodneighbor to Taffington was uneventful but unpleasant—most everyone was suffering from last night and, on top of that, they were cold and wet. It never did stop raining, but having the head start on the day meant that they arrived at the Boathouse at midday. Nora, feeling generous, announced that they would rest up at Taffington and depart for Sanctuary in the morning. 

“So,” Nora breathes out contently, pausing for a moment to listen to the loud laughter coming from inside the restored house behind them. “What’s Fishburn’s story, do you think? He seems like a nice guy.” The synth’s new name is James Fishburn, and while he was indeed a part of the festivities in Goodneighbor last night, Nora hadn’t actually gotten the chance to speak at length with him. 

“Don’t know much,” Deacon replies casually, extending his foot out from the awning of the roof to watch the raindrops splatter on his shoe. “He’s from the Capital Wasteland if I remember correctly… Said he got wind of the Minutemen settling the Commonwealth and wanted a safe place to shack up.”

“Good for him.” Nora mumbles, copying Deacon by stretching her legs out over the water that shines black in a reflection of the night sky above. “This is a nice place to settle, at least—you see that new building that they put up across the street?”

“The new shack next to the old shack? Fabulous architecture, I love the splintered wood moulding.” Deacon smiles when Nora swats at his arm before he takes a swig from his own beer. “Yup, they’re making progress. How many families are here now?”

“Mm, about fourteen or fifteen.” She replies, voice soft over the chiming crickets and croaking frogs. “I know one family wants to make their way to Diamond City eventually—for more opportunities than farming.”

A swell of laughter sounds from inside, carried on the warbling from the radio playing somewhere nearby. Nora rests her chin on her shoulder and turns her face towards the warm glow of candlelight filtering out towards them from the window.  
“Do you need me at Sanctuary, Fixer?” Deacon asks, running a fingernail over the neck of his beer bottle.

Nora blinks at the use of her old codename—he hasn’t used that in a _long_ time, and even then only under odd, random circumstances. It used to be the only way he would address her, Deacon would never call her by her real name. And then one day he said her name and that was that. They never looked back after that achieved intimacy.

“I always want you with me. You’re my partner.” Nora tells him easily, looking out at the rippling surface of the lake. “But if you have a job to do, do it. We can handle the Mutants if that’s what you mean.”

“I know—I just, uh, wanted you to know that I’d come with you if you asked me to.” He says, reaching for their shared pack of cigarettes on the little table resting between them. He lights one up before leaning back in his chair with a sigh, turning to meet her eyes from behind his shades. “And I have to admit, _sometimes_ I miss the old ball and chain act we had going, if you can believe it. Besides that, your snoring has actually come full circle and it now _helps_ me fall asleep—without it I’m a shell.”

Nora harrumphs, fixing him with narrowed eyes that fall short of stern due to the remnants of a smile on her lips. She draws her legs up onto her chair and wraps her arms around them. “Do you want me to force you stay with me?”

He grimaces and shakes his head in distaste, setting his finished beer bottle down before retrieving a new one. “Nah, I’d feel smothered.”

“God forbid.” Nora mumbles, leaning across the space between them to take a drag off his lit cigarette when he holds it out to her. “Is this job that you’re doing dangerous?”

“Hmm.” Deacon taps a finger to his chin, dutifully keeping his arm extended for her hands to cradle his forearm as she continues to steal his cigarette. “I mean—I’m trailing a gang of ferals. Might be a _bit_ risky.”

“A _gang_ of feral ghouls?” Nora chortles, squeezing his arm. “Uh oh.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought regular groups were bad enough, but a _gang_? Phew.” Deacon’s grin only widens, if possible. “They coordinate their leather outfits and carry around switchblades that can alternate into a comb. I thought it was a bit banal of them but Des is hot on the trail, so what’s a guy to do?”

Nora snorts from the effort to keep from laughing too loudly, covering her mouth with one hand while she closes her eyes. “You idiot.” 

“Got you laughing, at least.” Deacon shrugs, pulling his arm from her grip to take a drag. “If anything that’s a true testament to your taste, and I’m _a bit_ underwhelmed.”

Nora hums from the afterglow of laughter and relaxes her sore cheeks with a yawn. “Honestly?”

“Honestly, no. The job isn’t dangerous. It’s just the same old, same old—super boring; you’d tear your hair out.” He replies, tipping his sunglasses down for a rare showing of his eyes. She examines them critically for a moment before she’s satisfied, reaching across the space between them to push the glasses back up his nose.

“Because you know if it weren’t for Sanctuary, I’d be with you.” She points at him with the neck of her beer. “If you asked me to, of course.”

“Yup, I know.” He nods and she looks away to stare out at the reflection of the stars on the water. Comfortable silence falls over them for a moment before Deacon clears his throat. “Sanctuary is gonna be fine, Nora.”

“Sanctuary is a tiny fucking _speck_ in comparison to Shaun.” Nora says quietly, unable to meet his eyes as she admits this. He doesn’t judge her, only sips at his beer and waits for her to continue. “I feel like there isn’t a single place that I could put him in the entirety of the Commonwealth that would make me relax.”

“Probably not.” Deacon agrees, watching her. “But I’d wager the company he keeps is all the protection he needs and he’s got his pick of the litter in that regard—you know that, mama bird.”

“I do.” Nora finally looks at him, a fond smile on her lips. She _knows_ that her friends would do anything for her son, and that’s not just because Shaun belonged to _her_. “You know, last time I saw Shaun he asked after you.”  
“Oh yeah?” He grins, genuine and _so_ handsome in the raw display. “I haven’t seen the shrimp in a long while.”

“He’s not a shrimp compared to _me_.” Nora scowls at the thought of her twelve year old son almost being taller than his thirty-four year old mother. She couldn’t be surprised though, really. Nate had towered over her, big and tall and strong. “It sounds stupid of me to say—and I never thought I’d be _that_ mother—but he looks more like Nate every time I see him.”

“Spooky stuff those genetics.” Deacon grunts as he stands up, setting his half empty beer on the railing of the porch before he rolls his back in a stretch. “I’m out for the count, pal. You coming?”

“To bed?” He nods. “Hm, not yet. I’m going to stay out here for a while.” 

Deacon looks her over for a few long seconds before he smiles and nods, adjusting his sunglasses and straightening his pants. Nora reaches out to him and he chuckles, shuffling on his feet obediently until she snatches up one of his arms to pull him the rest of the way to her. She turns his hand over in her grip and presses a kiss to the center of his palm before looking up at him with a tender smile. He reaches up to trace a thumb across the expanse of her high, pronounced cheekbone. 

“Goodnight.” 

“Night, partner.”

Nora smiles at Deacon’s back as he rounds the corner of the porch towards the rows of shabbily constructed shacks standing outside the main house. He had left her the remainder of his cigarette and she pinches it in her fingers and brings it to her lips, taking a long pull before sighing contently and settling back in her chair. For several quiet minutes she is actually calm, her eyes sliding shut as the sounds of the night soothe an endlessly racing mind into a thoughtless trance. With the radio and the soft chatter drifting from the house, it could almost be before the war. What would be the difference? Taffington stood strong two hundred years ago, after all. And how many times had she driven past this exact property with Nate? Probably about as many times as he had nagged her about buying a boat of their own. 

_Come on! Just picture me basking in the spray of the water! There is almost no downside to owning a boat. In fact, I don’t think I could think of a reason if I tried. No? Are you sure? Not even for my 40th_? 

And here she is two hundred-something years later, sitting on the back porch that she now owned with the remnants of Taffington’s boats lying dead and silent at the bottom of the lake beneath her. A cruel picture of her husband’s beautiful face down there with the boats flashes through her mind; Nate lying amidst the reeds and the muck, forever thirty-nine. She flinches and heaves out a steadying breath through her nose, trying to force the punishing thoughts from her mind.

When her legs begins to tingle uncomfortably from their folded position Nora shifts, one of her knees bumping into her last beer bottle and causing it to roll off the edge of the porch and into the lake with a wet plop. “Fuck.” Nora glares at the water below her, exhaling irritably as she contemplates simply turning in for the night. _Just one, right_? 

_Nah, fuck that_. She rolls her eyes and stands up from her chair, gathering up the empty beer bottles around her. She walks across the porch towards the boathouse that was really more of a storage shed now that boats weren’t really a pastime. She’s tempted to turn on her pipboy light when she runs face first into a huge figure and practically bounces off of the solidness of the body. A brief fright of falling into the water strikes her before two hands wrap securely around her arms and pull her back away from the edge.

“Holy Christ!” A gruff voice gasps, laughing breathlessly.

“Valdez.” Nora wheezes, clutching at her pounding heart. The bottles in her grasp clink together awkwardly and she shifts to keep them from falling.

“General?” He laughs, ducking down to let the lantern light behind him shine on her face. “Oh _man_ , you scared the shit outta me!”

“Yeah, likewise.” She pulls away from him, straightening her coat and pulling it closer around her neck with a shiver. “What’re you doing out here?”  
“Could ask you the same, ma’am.” She can just see the outline of his smile in the dark, the lantern light behind him doing more to blind her than anything else. “I’m, uh, gettin’ some more beer.”

“Me too, actually.” She smiles tentatively at him—the expression somewhat foreign in his presence—and turns to fall in beside him as they walk towards the boathouse. “So, no one learned their lesson after last night I see.”

“ _Nah_ , no way,” He laughs, white puffs of his warm breath swirling into the chilled air. “Besides, they took my advice—the best cure for a hangover is more booze. Simple as.”

“You’re fucking delusional.” She grumbles and he lets out one of his big, fantastic laughs.

“Nah, General, its true!” He pipes up as they duck out of the rain and into the boathouse. They weave around the stacks of rations and supplies strewn about the space, squinting in the dark to make out the crude labels on the boxes. “Ain’t you ever done that?”

“What, hair of the dog?” Nora scoffs with a roll of her eyes. “No. I don’t buy it.”

“Works for me.” 

“No, Valdez, I think you’re just a large man.” She snorts, blowing at the dust on top of a box in the search for its label. “It takes significantly _more_ alcohol to affect you due to your body mass. And anyway, I’d guess you probably process hangovers differently—or maybe you’re just perpetually drunk.”

He seems to be contemplating that information, and when Nora turns back to look at him Ray is looking at himself curiously, turning his hands over to look at their width before flexing one of his arms with an impressed pout to his lips. She bursts out laughing at the sight of him, slapping her hands over her face in an attempt to muffle her cackles.

“What?” He breathes out a laugh, unable to help the grin that comes forth from the infectious sound of her. “What’d I do?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She waves her hand at him in dismissal, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes as she breathes out heavily. “Just… I don’t know. Nothing.”

“I never hear you laugh.” Rays says after she starts to calm down, running his hands through his damp hair. 

“I don’t have much reason to.” Nora answers with a brand of honesty that sends a jolt of regret through her. _Shit—…fuck_. Ray is quiet for a moment as he processes that, the beating rain on the tin roof filling the silence.

“ _I_ make you laugh.” He suggests, sounding as if he were teasing her for it. 

“I laugh _at_ you.” Valdez chuckles in delight at the insult and she can just make out the vague shape of his grin. “You’re a ridiculous man.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head to the side. “Maybe you make me that way, querida.”

It’s then that Nora notices that he’s not wearing a jacket, but instead a sleeveless shirt that reveals the entirety of his arms. She can see the shine of his brown eyes where some lantern light shines through some widely spaced slats in the wall beside him, can see the gleam of rain on his skin.

“Aren’t you cold?” She asks with a swallow as the bubbling mirth in her chest begins to fade into fluttering anxious energy. Her gut feels sore with anticipation and her thighs begin to heat with the longer he stares at her.

“No, ma’am.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to her. 

She backs up as he approaches, the two of them moving together until he has her boxed in against a shelf of dry goods. Without saying a word he leans forward, caging her with his arms when his hands come up to grip one of the flat shelves near her head. He smells cold and fresh like rain yet musky like campfire smoke and it’s making her dizzy. There’s the heady scent of beer on his breath and Nora can’t think to do anything but let the empty bottles in her grasp clatter to the ground when she reaches up to cradle his face in her hands and kiss him.   
Ray breathes out a relieved rumbling noise into her mouth and hooks an arm around her waist, his palm coming up to cradle the back of her head. His fingers sink into the thickness of her hair and he anchors himself there with a firm grip. Her tongue meets his in a slow, rolling caress as she presses her body forward to drape her arms around his neck. Heat shoots through her as he crushes her between his body and the shelf behind her. He kisses her with increasing intensity when her breath begins to falter in her chest, his teeth biting at her bottom lip sharply enough to make her knees weaken underneath her. With a sharp push he thrusts his hips against her once in an utterly simple way of showing her his arousal, the shelf and its contents wobbling dangerously. 

“What do you want, huh?” Ray pants against her when he pulls away from her lips. His knuckles pale from his grip on the shelf when she presses a line of open mouthed kisses along the pounding pulse in his neck. “Tell me and I’ll do it—anything you want.”

“Unbutton your pants.” She tells him after leaning her head back against the shelves to look up into his eyes. He obeys her hurriedly, swallowing dryly at the piercing dare in her gaze. Once his pants are hanging open loosely on his hips she grips two handfuls of his shirt to switch their positions. She pushes him up against the shelves roughly enough to shake the entire structure and then reaches between them to run her fingertips along the heated velvet skin of his cock.

A breath shudders prematurely from his chest as she wraps her hand around his erection, squeezing with building pressure until he groans and bucks with a wild thrust into her hand. She calms him with soothing kisses along his bicep, running her free hand in an affectionate pass over his chest until she feels his racing heartbeat beneath her palm. _Wild beast_ , she thinks with a smile. He begins to breathe heavily through his nose at the sight of her lowering to her knees in front of him. 

“Oh—oh _fuck_ ,” Ray groans at the image of her looking up at him with his heavy cock brushing over her cheek. When he meets her stare his dick jumps and she reaches her hand up calmly to wrap her fingers around him, pumping a few times before ghosting her breath along the head. “I’m gonna bust in friggin’ record time—,”

“Shh.” Nora cuts him off sharply, tracing the tip of her index finger down the underside of his erection, following the path a moment later with her tongue. 

His hips drive forward impatiently and she holds him back against the shelf, a few boxes of Sugar Bombs tumbling down to land beside Nora. She extends her tongue to swirl around the tip of him, earning a sobbing groan from above before she wraps her lips around him and pushes her head down until his cock hits the back of her throat and her eyes begin to prickle. She pulls back gasping and hums with a swallow, licking her lips in concentration before taking him back into her mouth and laving her tongue along the underside while hollowing her cheeks in long draws. 

“ _Mmm_ ,” He rumbles deeply as he looks down to watch her, reaching his hands up to grip the top of the shelf above his head. “Shit, querida— _ah_! What the fuck, that’s—fuckin’ _great_ , oh Christ.”

Nora glances up at him before concentrating back on her work, taking one hand from his hip to wrap around the last few inches that she couldn’t fit in her throat. The length of him was never the problem, more so the width—her jaw is sore already from taking him fully into her mouth, but the taste and heated solidity of him is enough to make her rub her thighs together desperately. She moves her mouth and hand up and down him with a gradually increasing pace, pulling off every few passes to swirl her tongue in firm curls around the head of his cock. She continues this maddening rhythm until his legs begin to tremble slightly and his chest heaves with broken, heavy gasps.  
Ray’s head falls back with a loud thump against the shelves, his abdominal muscles clenching involuntarily as the suction of her mouth on his cock begins to dizzy and blank his mind. “Mi dios de mierda,” He whines breathlessly through gritted teeth, the shelf groaning in warning from the strength of his grip. His hips begin to twitch forward into her mouth with the closer his orgasm creeps. “Su boca se siente tan bueno, _mierda_ —don’t fuckin’ stop, please.”

She smiles wickedly up at the image of him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with lips parted and a heavy grimace on his face. Her hand on his cock quickens and she wraps her lips around the head of him, focusing her tongue cruelly on the underside with unrelenting curls while keeping up a rhythmic suction in time with her strokes. That steals the breath from him completely until he lets out a long, shaken groan. He thrusts his hips blindly into her grip, chasing the wet heat of her mouth as his mind begins to blank. 

“I’m gonna come,” He warns her in a clipped grunt, one of his hands reaching down to stroke her hair. She hums in acknowledgment and keeps up her pace until his hips snap forward suddenly and he begins to pulse into her mouth, coming onto her flattened tongue. “ _Fuck_!” 

Her fingernails flex with stinging bites into the skin over his hip as he coats her mouth and she groans in approval. She rolls the taste of him in her mouth for a moment before swallowing with a lewd smack of her lips. Ray watches this with hooded eyes that swim with lust. “Wow.”

“You taste as good as you look.” Nora hushes, pressing an indulgent kiss to his still-twitching cock just to watch him flinch from the oversensitivity. After a few moments of exploring his limits with post-orgasm touches, she grips his hands to aid her in standing. As soon as she is on her feet Ray’s big hand moves to cup her through her pants, his fingers rolling over her clit while a grip on her bicep has her smashed against his body. “No—not me.”

“What?” Ray sounds bewildered, his fingers on her halting and coming up to hook on one of her belt loops. “Why not?”

“I don’t—well… I don’t know,” Nora shakes her head, staring at his collarbone to avoid his eyes. “That was for you, I guess.”

“Alright.” Ray lets out a large breath after a lull of quiet between them, his hand on her arm sliding down to hold her spindly fingers in his palm. He rolls one of her knuckles between the tips of his fingers absently. A piano player’s fingers, Nate used to call them. “Are you okay?”

The question makes her prickle irritably—makes her feel claustrophobic. If she had to pick a question that she’d heard the most in her time since emerging from the vault, it’d be that one.

“ _Yes_ , I’m fucking _okay_.” Nora hisses and pushes away from him with overt aggression, feeling her scalp heat up in a blush of shame as she takes a large step away from him. Ray grunts when the back of his head hits against the shelf, the loud thump of the impact making her heart lurch. “Shit, are you hurt?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He says as he rubs at the back of his head, though a glimpse of his face in the meager light shows the confusion in his eyes. 

“I can’t imagine why I’d do that.” She whispers, lying. _He kinda looks like Nate_ , Deacon’s voice is in her head. Guilt weighs heavy in her throat like suffocation.

After a hefty sigh Ray shakes it off, rolling his shoulders and his neck before huffing out a laugh. “No harm done, ma’am. I’ve been knocked in the brain so many friggin’ times, ain’t nothin’ much worse can be done to it.”

“Hey,” Nora hushes, stepping forward and touching a tentative hand to his arm. She looks up into his eyes sternly. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m terribly sorry, Ray.”

Mild surprise passes on his face at the gentle tone she shows him. “S’okay, really.”  
Nora can imagine that he’s being honest; he really doesn’t mind her outburst and clearly doesn’t understand why she’s sorry. He’s a very physical person—throwing his arms around his friends at any opportunity, using his hands in conversations, giving out hugs liberally, squeezing shoulders and knees with his massive hands... He’s this big, warm, obnoxious person who, at times, doesn’t know where to unload his breath-taking energy. Because of this and because of his past affiliations, it is an absolute certainty that he has been pushed around worse before—his countless scars are proof enough. 

There is a sudden strong part of her that wants him to know that she isn’t one of those people that _wants_ to hurt him. Nora frowns, squeezing his forearm in her grip. “I wasn’t always like this.” She tells him, watching the swallow work in his throat as he listens to her in rapt fascination. “I used to be much kinder. I wish you could’ve known me then.”

Ray thinks on her words for a few long moments—it’s his way, though people in the past have always said he’s stupid for taking so long to think about things. After several seconds too long under her strange, piercing sniper’s stare he shrugs. “You must’ve been a fuckin’ saint then, cause I don’t know anyone better than you, General.”

Nora blinks at the brilliant grin that spreads on his face. Her lips part before her mind can think of what to say. “Valdez—,”

“Ramon!” A voice shouts from the porch just outside the boathouse, distinctly female and warbling in a sing song tone. “Oh _Ramon_? Yoo-hoo!”

Nora scrambles away from Ray just as he flinches from the use of his full name, turning his ear towards the voice. He looks to Nora with a laugh. “Shit, guess I forgot I was on a beer run.”

“Yeah, me too.” She breathes, running her hands through her hair anxiously as he turns away from her.

“Why don’t you come booze it up with us, General?” He leans over to grab a six-pack in each hand before he looks to Nora with a faint smile. “Maybe you can laugh at me some more, huh?”

“Not tonight, Valdez.” Nora shakes her head as he pauses in his departure to stand beside her, his body-heat warming her in his close proximity. Without a word he leans down to her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head before leaving her standing alone in the boathouse. 

After a few moments she hears the loud squeak of the rusty screen door leading into the main house followed by a raucous uproar of cheers upon what must’ve been Valdez’s return. She swallows at the echoes of memories those sounds bring her, parties with friends and families before the war, before she got pregnant. She almost feels as if her old life is in that house, and if she were to walk through that screen door she would step back into a memory as if she were plunging feet-first into the black lake outside. 

_I’m tired_ , her mind tells her—a kind whisper amidst her melancholy.

Nora turns from the boathouse and makes her way outside, tipping her head back to feel the cool splattering of rain across her flushed face. Her tongue chases the rainwater on her lips, clean and sweet. She allows her feet to lead her where her heart knows she feels the safest, until finally she is shutting the door to the shack temporarily given to the General of the Minutemen. She turns, catching sight of Deacon on her bed with the light of a lantern casting an orange glow on him. He’s awake, of course, looking up at her over the edge of a campy romance novel she had found for him months ago. 

Deacon doesn’t say anything for nearly a whole minute, simply taking in her expression and her wet hair. “You in too deep yet?”

“Not even close.” Nora laughs, letting her damp clothes slide off her on the way over to the bed. She flops face first into the bed once she’s naked, her body uncomfortably slick with rain. “I’m starting to think he’s too good for me.” Her voice is muffled by the mattress; almost enough for her to hope that he might not have heard her.  
She’s struck by Deacon’s expression when she looks over to him, naked and open for her to stare at. She’s always a bit taken aback by his face without his sunglasses—he’s infinitely more honest this way and Nora knows that’s why he’s almost never without them. “If you knew the things that I know about him, you wouldn’t think that, pal.”

It’s an offer, plain and simple. She knows that Deacon isn’t necessarily _trying_ to protect her, and he certainly isn’t trying to sabotage anything. That’s just what he does—he finds out things that others may not want found out. As her best friend, her _family_ , he’s offering her the information on Valdez that he must’ve dug up, no strings attached. Things about Ray’s past; people he’s killed or lives he’s ruined. Deacon is trying to give her all the cards. Considering this, and all the things that she already knows about Ray, Nora takes a moment to think on whether or not it’s worth it to open up this particular can of worms. 

“Guess it’s better that I don’t know, then.” Nora tells him evenly, and that is all Deacon needs. He smiles at her, probably mentally filing away Ramon Valdez into the back of his mind, and leans over to put his book down on the bedside table. 

“Guess so.” He grunts as she crawls up his body to flop her head onto his chest. She presses a kiss to his collarbone before nuzzling back against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, her eyes drifting shut to the beat of his heart and his fingertips on her spine.

“You know,” Nora yawns, teetering on the cusp of unconsciousness. “Shaun misses you. Maybe after all this blows over…”

“Yup.” She feels his voice vibrate, finishing her thought as he was wont to do. “I’ll be there, Fixer. Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Okay. This is everything I posted on the kinkmeme. Currently this story is now up to date. Hopefully in my caffeine filled editing/post-a-thon I didn't fuck anything up. From now on, anything I post is NEW. YAY! <3 <3


	12. Diplomacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New stuff! Yay!
> 
> This is pretty short, lol, I'm sorry about that. It was originally a part of one big looonngg chapter. I wanted to cut it up a bit. It's a bit late so forgive me for any mistakes, I'll probably catch them later. 
> 
> **Sidenote** : I fucked up on chapter 7 (I think) and the ending was cut off. Not by much, but still. I fixed that. lol. Sorry...

The General’s convoy left Taffington early the next morning, just when the rain seemed at its heaviest. It was such that Nora had even considered waiting for the weather to soften—the last thing Sanctuary needed right now was sniffling reinforcements. Luckily enough, the sour weather seemed to run out of steam right around the time of passing through Lexington. There was a mini celebration amongst the two squads at this change in weather that included a few scrounged up Fancy Lad Cakes for the soldiers and Nora nearly chugging a Nuka Cola for the caffeine fix. It was a short break however, with Captain Rice dutifully reminding everyone that there was still at least two more hours of walking to reach Concord. 

Nora, as this announcement was being made, had been letting her mind wonder on future prospects involving Lexington. The city was definitely a large project to take on, but at this point in the Minuteman’s official occupation of the Commonwealth she supposed it wasn’t entirely out of the question to attempt settling Lexington. Her eyes scanned over the large buildings; all of them were mostly ruined, but all she could think about was the sheer amount of scrap available. Perhaps if not claiming the city she could farm it for resources—Sanctuary could certainly use more, for how fast it was growing. 

“Let’s move out.” Nora sighs around her cigarette, pinching it between her fingers and flicking the filter onto the concrete.

 

Nora usually felt cramped with more than one person at her side, but this group wasn’t as terrible as others she had escorted. Turner’s squad was an interesting bunch at least, though this she had surmised earlier on. They genuinely enjoyed one another, and seemed to have a bundle of inside jokes and harmless spats amongst them. It was apparent that Turner and Valdez were quite close, for on more than one occasion had the General glanced back to see the two of them walking side by side, usually laughing over some joke made at the other’s expense or, contrastingly, deep in a quiet conversation. They were quite the pair, with Ray’s towering height and Turner’s relatively short stature—it was comical looking, really.

“It must’ve been nice, General,” Surprised from her thoughts, Nora turns her head towards Captain Rice’s voice as he falls into step beside her leading the convoy. 

“Pardon?” She frowns, her nails scratching into her palm to suppress her need for a cigarette. 

“Before the war, ma’am—I would imagine that getting from place to place was much easier than it is now.” Rice replies with his eyes ahead toward the horizon where Concord was slowly coming into view. It wouldn’t be too long now until they arrived at Sanctuary. The hour or so that had passed after leaving Lexington had flown by, consisting mostly of the regular tunes from the radio and scattered conversations amongst the group.

If Nora didn’t know the Captain to be a rather serious man, she would have assumed that he was being snarky with her. But… no, not Rice. From what Nora had gathered from the man thus far, she understood him to be quiet but sharp with intelligence. He was not intimidated by her as most are, but rather he held a firm respect for her that was accompanied by unerring dedication to her as a leader. He did not question her, not in the slightest. Simply put: he was a model officer—and rather looked like a stereotypical one too, with a strong jaw and charming chestnut colored hair. Quite handsome. A little birdy—Deacon, of course—had informed Nora that the Captain was a newlywed, with a husband stationed at Zimonja. Nora intended to send Rice’s squad to the Outpost promptly after sorting out this Mutant problem.

“It was.” She nods, looking away from his profile in order to turn down the radio on her Pipboy. “Of course, back then we had to deal with traffic—can’t say I miss that.”

“Traffic?”

“Too many people trying to get into the same place all at once,” Nora explains. The Captain nods in understanding, taking his gaze away from the Concord skyline to study the General’s expression. “It made getting into Boston a fucking shit-show.”

“I suppose it would be a bit unoriginal of me to say that I wish I could’ve seen that.” Rice shows his rare smile—he almost looks bashful. 

“Yes it would.” She huffs out a laugh, absently fiddling with the holster at her hip. “It was a different life, certainly.”

A quiet falls over the two, the sound of Diamond City radio and the chatter of the soldiers taking up their absence of conversation. Nora’s mind begins to drift to thoughts of home—Sanctuary and Shaun. The anticipation to see her son was tickling in her chest, like a sweet fluttering creature beneath her ribs. He was growing at the same rate that a human boy his age would, which meant he was rocketing up unfairly fast to soon overtake his mother in height. Though she supposed that wasn’t any great feat; she was rather short. All of this considered, she wouldn’t be surprised if he had grown in the two weeks that she’d been gone.

With thoughts of home came, of course, thoughts of food. The provided meals at The Castle were decent, but they were nothing compared to the combined culinary knowledge of Codsworth and Nora. Not to mention Nora’s insistence on usage of pre-war basics: butter, honey, sugar, and salt, amongst others. Some items had to be modified with today’s standards of course—brahmin butter for example, which was quite a bit saltier and not quite as sweet as the butter she remembered. Honey was more difficult to come by. It was only by an astonishing turn of luck that Nora had stumbled upon a bunker that was stocked with pure honey that was sealed well enough to last the centuries after the war. It wasn’t as sweet as it probably once was, but it was still a precious treasure. As she walked she started to think of things to cook—pastries mainly—and if perhaps it would be expected of her to invite her officers over for dinner one night. She certainly wouldn’t mind having Rice over for a visit, he was a pleasant man who didn’t find it overly necessary to talk to excess—a quality she admired. Turner would probably burst with pride at being invited to the General’s table. 

Excitement starts to mount as the group begins to ascend the hill towards Concord, the modest church coming into view alongside the Museum of Freedom. Nora can hear the casual chatter behind her turn to discussions of Sanctuary—many from this group had only ever heard of it. Most people knew it as the Minuteman capital, whereas the Castle was their military base of operations. Sanctuary had grown its population to a staggering amount in the two years since she and Preston had officially founded it as a settlement. Two years… Had it really been that long since she left The Vault?

“General?” Rice’s deep voice rumbles, breaking Nora from her thoughts. “I have some lingering suspicions regarding Sanctuary Hills.”

“Oh?” She hums, turning her head to get an eyeful of the Captain’s expression. His face yields no strong emotions, which is usually par for the course with the man. Nora shrugs minutely after a failed effort to read him before she turns to fish through her coat for a cigarette and her lighter. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Well, I am chiefly concerned that Mutants are still managing to pop up after the Minutemen raids on known Greenskin nests—you’d think they’d be licking their wounds instead of casing one of the largest settlements in the Commonwealth.” He replies, meeting her contemplative look steadily. “That’s dull, even for them.”

“I’ve been curious about that myself, Captain. Assuming what they are doing is _casing_. Maybe they are simply dipping their toes in the water.” Nora sighs, mashing the cigarette between her lips to hold it steady as she lights it. “However, delving into the stratagem of Super Mutants usually yields bullshit.”

“If Captain Danse is concerned enough to request back up, then I’m sure it’s not just a couple of Super Mutants throwing pebbles from across the bridge.” Rice says after a moment of quiet, adjusting the grip he has on his lever-action.

“Mm.” Nora grunts in agreement. “I trust Danse’s judgment entirely. If it were more of a concern, he would’ve requested additional backup.” 

This was all true, though Nora did know a few more details to fill in the gaps. Danse, in a way, _was_ requesting more than just two squads as back up. Everyone knew that if there was a problem in Sanctuary, small or large, the General would make a beeline across the Commonwealth to address it. Therefore she, in a way, _is_ more backup. A one person package deal that was widely notorious for getting shit done. 

Just as the group is about to round the corner onto Main Street, a voice rings out in the open air, obnoxious and laced with mocking.

“Tally-ho soldier boys!”

With impressive speed the Minutemen fall into cover against the wall of the hardware store on the street corner across from the church, weapons drawn and ready. Nora’s back presses against the wall, her heart thumping with adrenaline as the smoke from her cigarette stings her eyes, making her squint. She has drawn her .44 and doesn’t remember doing it, though she supposes the motion is beyond mere muscle memory at this point. Nora takes a moment to inhale the thick summer air, listening to the quiet that follows the exclamation from somewhere on Main Street. It was human, that’s for sure, male. Captain Rice leans out carefully from cover, sharp eyes scanning the street through the broken store windows.

“Raiders.” He hushes to Nora, the mere word causing a plethora of different reactions amongst her soldiers. “Three, they appear to be unarmed.”

Nora, on the other hand, deflates slightly in relief. Based on location alone the Raiders could really only belong to one man: Sully Mathis. Thus, they were most likely harmless. 

In an uncharacteristic move, Nora had allowed Mathis and his rather large gathering to remain in the stone quarry to the Northeast of Concord on the condition that they mine the resources in said quarry exclusively for Nora’s needs. She used the stone mined there to help bolster settlements and build more artillery. She paid the gang in water and food, basic supplies and rations that were in considerable abundance due to her extensive farm lands. This was a partnership that was rather infamous amongst her advisors—Preston and Danse particularly. Despite the discomfort the situation caused her colleagues it was an undeniably fruitful arrangement, and it gave Nora the chance to keep Sully under her boot—for _personal_ reasons.

“Maybe they want to talk?” Turner suggests, adjusting her black cap anxiously. 

“We wanna talk!” The same harsh voice echoes from the raiders down the street, earning a few snickers from the Minutemen gathered.

“How intuitive, Lieutenant.” Nora smirks at Beth, who smiles a bit bashfully. “I knew I promoted you for a reason.”

“How do you want to play this, General?” Captain Rice frowns, looking unsure. Nora doesn’t blame him—three unarmed raiders wanting to ‘talk’ would normally be something to be suspicious over. 

“Okay kids, here’s what we’ll do.” Nora exhales as she pushes off from the wall to stand in front of the entire group in her address. “Gould, I want you and Myers to cover us from above. I trust your judgment on a vantage point. Orders are to hold fire unless you see the raiders draw, understood?”

“Aye, aye!” Gould and Shelley Myers—Captain Rice’s star sharpshooter—bark out before heading off into position. 

“The rest of you are on me.” Nora continues as she focuses back on the remaining Minutemen. “And the same goes for all of you: _don’t_ fucking fire your weapons unless _they_ draw. Got it?”

A chorus of assent hushes amongst the two squads; some look a bit frightful at the prospect of a fight—namely Sims—but most look rather serious and as if they are trying their very best to be professional. Nora can’t help but spare a glance to Valdez, who looks like he has a few different emotions battling. On the one hand, he looks raring for a fight, as per usual. On the other, he has a touch of uncertainty in his dark eyes—fear of discovery, perhaps? He rolls his head in a stretch and rests his bat on his shoulder, flexing his fingers restlessly on the handle. 

“Captain, let them know we are coming.” Nora smiles primly at Rice. 

He nods in understanding, sucking in a breath before bellowing out: “Toss any weapons that you have on your persons onto the ground in front of you!”

“We ain’t got any!” Comes the reply from the original speaker, sounding quite amused.

“Beware, we have a line on you! Make a move and you will be shot without hesitation!” The Captain shouts, his voice impressive in its sheer volume. _He’s a model officer alright_ … 

“Aye, aye _sir_!” The raider shouts back, tone heavy with disrespectful sarcasm.

Nora stalks out impatiently from behind the hardware store and out into the open, face twisted into a scowl. She leads the rest of her Minutemen out onto the main street of Concord, the Museum of Freedom at their backs. She has Rice on her left and Turner on her right, their weapons drawn but lowered. Valdez and Sims stick close to Lieutenant Turner, the former has his gruesome bat brandished proudly over his shoulders with the obvious anticipation to smash some heads. Sims, on the other hand, looks like he’s about to lose his Fancy Lad Cakes and he trails close behind Ray like a lost lamb. Lieutenant Horton, Paula Beck, and George Nash from Rice’s squad look the very picture of loyal soldiers—strong, blank expressions and straight backs, nearly marching in tandem behind their Captain. 

The three raiders stand in a line in the middle of the street, one of them positioned slightly forward from the other two—the speaker, most likely. He seems to be the one placed in charge of the talking, and not afraid to do so, for a wide grin drenched with sleazy confidence spreads across his face as he watches Nora approach. 

“Well holy shit boys, look at who we have here!” He laughs, giving Nora an obvious once over as she comes to a stop two meters from where he stands. “The infamous Boogeyman herself! Ain’t ever seen you up close before!”

Nora squints in her observation of the man as she holds her cigarette dormant between her closed lips, letting the swirling smoke drift up into the sky. Her soldiers are intensely quiet behind her, most having probably never witnessed such disrespect directed towards their General. 

“Say, you are way fuckin’ smaller than I thought you’d be.” The raider remarks with exaggerated sugar in his tone—as if speaking to a small child—and bends a bit at the waist, as if to emphasize her size. 

Nora’s eyebrow twitches at the molten fire that flares deep in her chest, prickling up the back of her skull as her temper begins to surmount. “What is your name?” She asks.

The raider scoffs, obviously a bit thrown by the question, and glances to his comrades before turning back to Nora. He sizes her up in a moment’s consideration before spitting tobacco from the corner of his mouth and onto the road—a little too close to Nora’s boots. “They call me Mouse. What’s it to you—”

In one quick move Nora takes aim with her .44 and shoots at the ground near the speaker’s feet. The raider named Mouse jumps and shouts in shock at the road splintering beside his foot, as do his comrades, but they don’t make for any hidden weapons. _So they really are unarmed—interesting_. The Minutemen flinch in surprise but stay strong, refraining from opening fire until she gives the signal. 

“That was a warning, _Mouse_.” Nora tells the raider who looks to her in outrage. “Now, tell me what gives you insignificant cunts the gall to hike into _my fucking territory_ to request parley with _me_ —unannounced at that.” The raider squints in confusion at her clipped, calm words, looking between his two companions with a frown. He opens his mouth to speak and Nora holds her gun up to aim it between his eyes. His jaw clicks shut. “Be brief and clear with your next words or be fucked everlasting.”

There is a brief moment of disbelief amongst the raiders, the two men on either side of Mouse looking to him warily. He is no help to them, his mouth bobbing open like a suffocating fish as he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Uh—shit man, I was sent by Sully, okay? Sully Mathis! He said you’d know who he was!” Mouse stutters, unable to look away from Nora’s unyielding glower. 

“Oh, really? Well then, Mouse, I’m confused.” Nora leans her head to the side, her voice lowering a register with the anger and indignation his insolence flared in her. “Who _the fuck_ do you think _I_ am? Because with the way you were just speaking to me, it seems to me like you are painfully out of the loop.”

Mouse’s mouth hangs open and forms words that don’t quite take. “I—uh—,” 

Nora inhales through her nose in unconcealed impatience, adjusting the grip on her .44 pointedly. “Boy, may whatever higher power you count on have mercy on your miserable fucking soul if you don’t tell me what business you have speaking with me, and _promptly_.”

“Okay! Okay, _fuck_ , Sully sent us because he needs to speak with you! It’s real important, he said!” Mouse cries out, wincing involuntarily at the pressure of the unwavering aim that Nora has on his face. 

“Mathis couldn’t grace me with his presence?”

“Nah, it’s not like that!” Mouse replies quickly, his nerves making his voice waver slightly. “He—uh—wasn’t sure if you would want to see him.”

"Well he’s right, but even _that_ fucking moron would have been better than you.” She hisses in irritation at his reply. Nora flexes her jaw tetchily before narrowing her eyes in thought. “How did you know I was coming?”

“Our watch saw you comin’ down the road, and Sully had told us a while ago that he wanted to be told when you were comin’ back to Sanctuary—so we told him. And, uh, then he sent us here. To talk to you.” Mouse explains carefully, as if remembering his lines for a play, and looks to Nora with something akin to hope after his account. For her approval or for her mercy, she wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps both.

“Hm.” Nora grunts, pondering that for a moment, before turning her hard eyes back on Mouse. “What does he want to speak with me about?”

“Shit, I don’t know?” Mouse glances to his friends, as if silently asking for an answer. “All he told us was to watch for you, I swear.”

Nora cocks an eyebrow in doubt, though the exhausted irritation tightening her muscles is enough to dampen her curiosity momentarily. Home is _so close_ —and waiting there for her is a bottle of vodka, a proper meal, and a pre-war pack of Grey Tortoises. “Fine. Your orders are to fuck off to the quarry—mindful of the drop, dipshits—and tell Sully that he can come speak to me, _formally_ , tomorrow in Sanctuary. 1300 hours. Got it?”

“Got it. Totally crystal clear, uh—“ He seems to search for the right word, glancing between Nora’s glare and her gun. “Ma’am?”

“Good.” Nora grunts, lowering her gun and holstering it before taking a draw off of her cigarette and blowing the smoke towards Mouse and his goons. “Now get the fuck out of my sight, I am sick of looking at you.”

She has barely said the words before the trio is fleeing with great urgency down an alley between the destroyed buildings lining Main Street. Nora waits while listening to their footsteps fade, the sound quickly replaced by the approaching steps of Gould and Myers returning to the party from their sniper posts. 

“Good shit, Gould, thank you for spotting us.” Nora remarks without turning, flicking her dead filter onto the dusty, cracked road beneath her. 

Captain Rice exhales heavily at her side, as if he had been holding his breath, and raises his eyebrows whilst staring off at the spot where the raiders had disappeared. “Wow.”

Nora’s eyes flit over to take in the Captain’s suddenly exhausted expression, resisting the urge to snort out a laugh. “Pissants with overindulgent egos do not amuse me.” She explains.

“I’ve never seen someone run so fast.” Turner slips up in her professional Lieutenant’s act with a chuckle. She coughs when the laugh escapes, mashing her scarred lips together. “That was sure… _Something_ , ma’am.”

“ _That_ , Lieutenant, was diplomacy at its most professional.” Nora smirks as she lights a new cigarette, leaning her head back on her shoulders to blow a column of smoke into the sky. “Let’s head out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3 <3


	13. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm a slow, weird little writer. Very sorry. I will never abandon this story, sometimes I just need some time to think things through. Thank you to every reader and to every commenter and every kudos-er. I really, really appreciate it. Thanks for sticking around. 
> 
> I have recently started playing the Nuka-World DLC (after all this time, lmao). So there's that. ;)

After making it through Concord, Nora waves up to the soldiers posted at the Red Rocket outpost. A bell is rung three times upon the discovery that the General was back in town—a much more agreeable alternative to the Castle’s habit of declaring her arrival over the loudspeaker.

Nora can feel more than one pair of eyes on her as she leads the group through the Red Rocket checkpoint—can keenly feel one in particular, boring unerring into her back. She can only imagine what that little display back in Concord did to Valdez, with his bizarre penchant for being belittled by the General. It is tempting to look back and see exactly what his expression is. She resists though, keeping in mind her unsavory behavior last night. A flash of Valdez’s confused expression from her lashing out makes her wince in shame. A prickle of a flush heats her ears and without meaning to she shakes her head as if to physically rid herself of the memory. Earlier this morning Nora had been contemplating whether or not it was about time to end this little affair—Ray’s resemblance to her late husband wasn’t something to just ignore and it was becoming more unsettling as time went by. Perhaps that was why she had started this in the first place, which wouldn’t be too shocking. Nate hadn’t left her heart, though she doubted he ever truly would. 

Just as Nora’s throat starts to feel cottony and sore with emotion the bridge to Sanctuary comes into sight. The historical bridge had long since been repaired, though perhaps a bit shoddily. It was stronger now, however, than it had possibly ever been. It was a necessity to reinforce it due to the daily occurrence of fat caravans passing over, not to mention the Minutemen’s power-armor units. 

“Good day, General!” Comes a rather professional greeting from one of the Minutemen posted at the intimidating front gates to Sanctuary. 

Nora frowns in her habitual observation of the turrets lining the gate, looking quickly for any weak spots, before turning to acknowledge the salutes she receives from her soldiers. “Hey there, has anyone seen Captain Danse?”

“Aye, ma’am.” The initial greeter replies and straightens his spine with a puffed up chest at having the General’s attention. “He requested immediate notice upon your arrival.”

“Right—I just need to know _where_ he is, kid.”

“Oh—uh, yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” The young soldier fumbles, letting up in his practiced thousand yard stare and glances briefly at Nora’s face. A swallow works his throat visibly at her blank look—hers is not a sour expression, simply the appearance of an exhausted leader with a well-known temper. “I last saw him at the mess hall this morning—,”

“At ease, McGuire.” A deep, rich voice sounds from Nora’s left and she turns to catch sight of Danse striding down the main road of Sanctuary to join the gathering. “I’m here.”

The soldier—McGuire, Nora supposes—seems to deflate with relief at being released from having to speak to his General (a feared experience, Nora has come to realize). He salutes with a snap of his heels, overly formal, and returns to his guard post.

A smirk works its way onto Nora’s lips as she watches Danse’s approach, catching the way some of the soldiers in her little convoy seem to redden at the sight of the Captain. Danse is, and always has been, positively fetching. His shiny black hair stirs slightly in the passing summer breeze (which only adds to his dashing officer persona) and the snug fit of his dark grey Captain’s coat shows the power of his body. _Hmm…_

“Hello, General.” Danse greets with a picture perfect salute, utterly professional and respectful—not counting the familiar sparkle in his charming brown eyes, of course. Danse was the ride or die sort of man and Nora had long since been the focus of his intense loyalty and fondness. The feeling was quite mutual.

“Captain Danse, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Nora can’t help but tease just a little bit. She can tell that he positively bristles at her familiarity in front of the other soldiers—he is _all_ business, that man. She lays off, giving him a respectful dip of her head in response to his salute. “You got here fast. How’d you know I was here? Have you microchipped me?”

Danse smiles ever so slightly at her jab, jaw flexing attractively beneath his beard. “Not so, ma’am. I was in the vicinity and heard the bell from Red Rocket Outpost.” He replies, lacing his hands behind his back. His dark eyes travel over the two squads behind her. “I see Captain Osborn’s squad but I do not see her.”

“She is on medical leave, unfortunately. Nothing too serious, a broken arm I believe.” Nora sighs, catching the way Danse frowns at that information. He probably disapproves of her decision to withdraw the squad without its Captain. Nora doesn’t rightly care, but she knows Danse enough to imagine what he’ll say to her in private. _Sigh_. “I was impressed, however, with the skills and teamwork of the squad. So I borrowed them and promoted Beth Turner to Lieutenant—the team is in her capable hands temporarily.”

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Turner.” Danse gives Beth a firm handshake. Nora watches the interaction carefully, secretly marveling at the progress he had made from his days of bigotry. After leaving Turner glowing with pride, Danse then turns to Captain Rice and gives the man a firm salute. Rice, of course, mirrors him almost perfectly in professionalism. _These two ought to get along_. “It is good to see you again, Captain.”

“You as well, Danse.” Rice rumbles.

“I assume I don’t need to showcase my sparkling manners by introducing you to these squads.” Nora raises a brow in question at Danse and he shakes his head. “You seem acquainted.”

“Affirmative. I have met both squads—albeit, Osborn’s squad was only once, and that meeting was quite brief.”

“Swell, saves me some breath.” Nora smiles tartly, turning to look the two squads over as she thinks. _They need rest and I need a drink_. Plans for dealing with the Mutants could be postponed until everyone had some time to recuperate. “Well boys and girls, I’ll leave you all in the hands of your superiors. The General needs a cocktail and that doesn’t require you lot gathered around me like fucking ankle-biters.”

“Mom!” _Speaking of ankle-biters_ …

Nora’s chest fills with sparkling energy as she turns just in time for Shaun to come barreling into her arms. A small grunt escapes her at her son’s enthusiasm, his hug nearly sending her stumbling backwards. She laughs, a feather light sound that’s authenticity sends an obvious ripple of shock through the soldiers gathered. The General’s true laugh, free of any biting sarcasm or teasing, is uncharacteristically soft. It is truly rare to see honest happiness on her face, she supposes, as every second without her son she feels tired and annoyed. 

“Hello, darling.” Nora hums against Shaun’s scalp as she presses a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Hi.” Comes a small, muffled voice from her chest. She can feel her son’s small hands bunching the fabric of her coat at her back.

Shortly after Shaun comes MacCready, jogging half-heartedly until he reaches the gathering. Once arrived, he doubles over with a groan and breathes heavily with his hands on his knees. “Christ, he runs fast.”

“A little winded there, huh, kid?” Nora smiles over-sweet at MacCready when he raises his head up to scowl at her. “What are you good for if you can’t keep up with the small child you are sworn to protect?”

“Small doesn’t really suit him. I mean hey, he’s almost as big as _you_ —though I guess that’s not sayin’ much, huh boss?” MacCready straightens up and closes the distance to Nora to pat her a bit too roughly on the top of her head. She slaps his hand away instantly, a sour glare on her face. “I missed my favorite arm rest.”

“Control yourself, _Robert_ , before I toss you off my bridge.” Nora hisses, ear muffing Shaun as she leans in close to MacCready to snarl. “Those rocks are awfully sharp down there, you fucking shit.”

MacCready appears unfazed with a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his cornflower eyes that dart around her face in observation. “Yeah right, I’d like to see you try.”

Danse clears his throat pointedly, stepping forward to glower at MacCready. The younger man raises an eyebrow at the close proximity and raises his chin insolently to stare up at Danse. “Show some respect.”

“Simmer down there, _stretch_. She’s not _my_ General, alright?” MacCready snorts, flashing Danse a callous smile that makes the aforementioned narrow his eyes. “Besides, she loves it when I tease her, right Nora?” To emphasize his suggestive words, MacCready slings his arm lazily around Nora’s shoulders and waggles his brows at Danse.

“Watch your mouth, _mercenary_.” Danse warns, jaw flexing angrily and his eyes flashing.

“Stop fighting.” Shaun hushes quietly from Nora’s side, his wide eyes flitting between the two men and his mother. The plea goes unnoticed by everyone save Nora, who frowns and sighs loudly. 

“Old rivalries die hard, huh boys?” She grumbles, shrugging MacCready’s arm off her shoulders when her ears begin to grow hot with embarrassment. She’s acutely aware of this little testosterone boxing match being performed for the two squads behind her, and they are sure soaking it all in. “Both of you knock it off, I can assure you that none of this is entertaining me.”

“Mom,” Shaun urges softly, tugging on her coat sleeve to get her attention as she nods her head in dismissal to the two squads gathered.

“Dismissed. Now.” Nora sighs exhaustedly, motioning the Minutemen through the gate pointedly. 

She notices the glances towards her son, the friendly smiles from Gould and Simms and the little finger wave from Lieutenant Turner. But most of all she notices Valdez’s troubled expression as he stares dumbfounded at Shaun, who is tucked shyly into his mother’s side. She knows what he must be thinking because she noticed it, too— _that kid kind of looks like **me**_. And it’s true, to some extent. She’s sure in some strange alternate world that if the three of them—Nora, Shaun, and Ray—all stood together, more than a few people would simply assume that they were a family. It’s a strange, horribly intrusive thought and she slaps it away angrily. Just before Ray turns to leave his eyes flicker up to Nora’s face and then back to Shaun, studying the little family with his head tilted in fascination. 

Ray trips in his gawking at Shaun, finally having to focus on the road ahead of him when Beth turns to snort and make a jab at him for his clumsiness. 

“Mom.” Shaun pipes up again, a little louder now that the two squads have left. 

“Yes, dear, what is it?” Nora exhales tiredly, flashing Shaun a doting smile as he stares up at her with his chin resting on the breastplate of her Combat armor. 

“Ms. Duff said that I could leave class for a few minutes to say hi to you, but I have to go back now.” Shaun tells her, smiling coyly when Nora raises her brow at this information. 

Doctor Duff and Scara had been lured to Sanctuary from their humble workspace in Diamond City several months ago with the promise of a more substantial lab and a full time job: teachers for the many children of Sanctuary. It had worked out wonderfully for all involved; the pair had even helped make countless improvements to the growing settlement. The pair partnered with Sturges was truly something to behold.

“Wow, aren’t you spoiled.” Nora hums playfully and Shaun laughs and wriggles out of his mother’s grasp. “How about you let your mother and these two idiots walk you to school, hm?”

“Okay!” Shaun calls over his shoulder, running at breakneck speed—as children his age seem to be fascinated with doing—towards the schoolhouse up the street. 

“Shit, I wish I could run like that.” Nora snorts, habitually grinding her back molars to resist the urge for a cigarette. She shares a mutual smile with MacCready and Danse before heading up the road after Shaun at a much slower pace. “So much for walking with him.”

“He’s _always_ running, wherever he goes.” MacCready says around the cigarette he is lighting, voice slightly muffled. He squints after Shaun as he falls into step beside Nora, exhaling smoke in a long sigh. After sparing a glance over to Danse—who is walking on Nora’s opposite side—MacCready once again slings his long arm around Nora and draws her into his side as they walk. She allows it, resisting the urge to smile when Danse glances over with a drawn brow. “You might need to start paying me more, you know—it’s pretty boring shadowing your kid all damn day. I might just quit.”

“Oh? Are you telling me that the nanny life _isn’t_ for you?” Nora hums, greedily inhaling the smoke that MacCready exhales. She doesn’t like to smoke in front of Shaun and it is absolute torture. Mac snorts at the desperate display, abiding her by blowing smoke directly into her face. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—pipe down.” MacCready flexes the arm that’s hooked around her neck, his muscles squeezing her tightly for a moment before he lets up. “I liked it better when he wasn’t in school most of the day. I get bored sitting around waiting for him to get out of that stupid place.” 

“It’s for his safety, MacCready, what do you want me to say?”

“ _Nobody_ is going to swoop down into Sanctuary from the sky and snatch him up. And there ain’t no way anybody is breaching the walls. They’d be zapped to ash before they even got close.” He groans in the sort of tone that tells of a conversation that’s been had a thousand times. And in this case, it most certainly has. Nora has been told many a time that she is perhaps _a tad_ overprotective.

“Vertibirds exist.” Nora mumbles sheepishly, a bit miffed at how unreasonable MacCready makes her sound for wanting constant supervision over Shaun. He teases her, but all of her closest friends know that her worst fear is the loss of her son. Nora wouldn’t recover from something like that, that much was plain.

“You own them all, boss.”

Shortly after saving Shaun from The Institute it had been obvious that Nora couldn’t simply dust her hands of the Commonwealth to be a stay at home mom. She was the General of the largest military organization in the Boston area and was essentially the de facto leader of the Commonwealth. Nora was needed elsewhere, but the idea of leaving Shaun was too much—Codsworth was capable but lacked human instinct. So in the beginning Shaun changed hands quite a bit—sometimes he was with Nick, sometimes Piper and Nat, even Curie took up babysitting duty on occasion. Eventually MacCready came forward and offered to watch him full time. It didn’t start out as a job but Nora had insisted on payment—he had to make money somehow, and watching a child full time didn’t allow any mercenary work. MacCready was still saving up to bring Duncan out here eventually, and despite Nora’s many offers to help with payment for the trip Mac had refused—too many favors, was his reasoning. He still thought that he owed Nora for her help at Med-Tek.

“He couldn’t be safer, General.” Danse speaks up, drawing her attention as they approach the schoolhouse where Shaun is waiting impatiently, bouncing on his heels with excess of energy. 

“What took you guys so long?” Shaun grins, his button eyes gleaming and his cheeks ruddy from exertion.

“Your mother is slow and old.” Nora sighs, ducking out from under MacCready’s arm and reaching out to snatch Shaun’s soft face in her hands. She holds him still as she places a kiss on his forehead, mussing his hair as she pulls away. “I’ll be here to pick you up after school, okay? Wait inside for me.”

“Okay mom.” Shaun beams up at her, biting his lip—as if unable to contain his excitement—and waves to the three adults before stepping into the schoolhouse.

“Ow.” Nora laughs, touching a hand to her heart. “I always forget how much I miss that little shit until he’s looking up at me with that darling smile.”

“He is very well-behaved.” Danse offers, wearing a proud smile that turns bashful when Nora turns a knowing look onto him.

“Huh, for _you_.” MacCready scoffs, falling back into place at Nora’s side as she continues on down the bustling main street towards her home. “He just wants to tinker with your laser rifle, I’m telling you. Shaun knows I won’t let him near my gun.”

“For fuck’s sake, _as if_ he’d do any damage, Mac.” Nora laughs, raising a brow at MacCready’s juvenile scowl. “Oh come on. You saw that mod he made me for my Remington—I don’t get those big bruises on my shoulder quite as bad anymore, the recoil is incredible, and Shaun spent maybe a week on it tops? Don’t act unimpressed.”

“That’s not the point. It’s _my_ gun.” MacCready presses, again sounding as if he had to explain this quite regularly. “I don’t let _anyone_ touch my gun.”

“You let _me_ touch it.” Nora hums in faux-innocence, grinning widely when MacCready’s eyes cut over to hers with the heat of a smirk in his expression.

“Hah—yeah, I did. But that was _one_ time, boss.”

“Well shit, it wasn’t that impressive anyway.” Nora sniffs and MacCready’s face instantly falls, drawing out a bark of laughter from Danse that is quickly masked by a pointed clearing of his throat. They are, in fact, only talking about an actual gun. Nora’s friendship with MacCready has always been rife with flirtatious innuendo and near constant one-upmanship, but that’s where it ended. She absolutely cannot help herself when it comes to teasing him, and she can’t quite place her finger on why. He’s snarky and delightfully cute, a blatant target for flirtation—she supposes that must be why. 

Just as Nora feels like she might start tearing her hair out for a cigarette, her humble little pre-war house comes into sight amongst the flurry of the city. Nora’s house is almost comical looking, due to the fact that it is the only place that has a yard and isn’t completely squished in by towering buildings and complex catwalks connecting everything like one big giant jungle gym. 

It hadn’t been long before Sanctuary had run out of space on the ground, with houses squeezed in side by side, along with public buildings—a school, bunkhouses for soldiers, two hotels, two bars (which were constantly competing for the General’s affection, _much_ to her liking), three restaurants, and a _sprawling_ market place. After they had run out of space below, the only logical thing was to build up. It was the closest thing to a pre-war city Nora had ever come across, probably because she had been the voice of its layout from day one. She supposed that was why people came from all over to live here—it was a place that had echoes of the past, a town to marvel at.

“God it’s good to be back here.” Nora breathes out, patting her coat pockets until she feels the bulge of her key ring. She yanks the oversized bundle of metal out of her undersized coat pocket after some great effort, shifting through the options as MacCready leans against the doorframe to watch her with an amused smile.

“Sheesh, do you really need all those keys?”

“What kind of queen doesn’t have keys to her kingdom?” She grins at him as she presses the key into the lock, ramming her shoulder against the red door when it sticks. “Ah, _home_.”

“MacCready, I have important business to discuss with the General.” Nora hears Danse say, his voice every bit the authoritative officer. She collapses onto her couch with an obnoxiously loud groan, letting her heavy pack fall onto the floor with a thud. Her shoulders radiate warmly with the blood that rushes back to her muscles in the absence of the weighty backpack and Nora chases that feeling of relief. She shrugs out of her coat, flapping her arm around to get out of the sleeve before she goes to work on her combat armor. “I’d appreciate it if you would leave us.”

“Yeah? Well I got business too, and it’s _private_.” MacCready says as Nora sighs in bliss, the sound of her breastplate clattering to the floor drawing his attention for a moment before he turns back on Danse. “Why don’t you take a hike and she’ll ring her shiny silver bell when she needs a brown noser?”

Nora leans up on her elbow enough for her head to pop up over the back of the couch, her eyes hard and an unlit cigarette in her mouth. “Both of you quit the fucking bickering and let me rest for a god damn minute. How’s that?”

“Aye, ma’am.” Danse casts his eyes down at the obvious irritation in Nora’s tone, reaching in his inner coat pocket to retrieve a lighter. 

Nora holds Danse’s hand steady to light her cigarette. “RJ, honey, would you make me a martini? I can’t possibly stand now that I’ve sat down.”

“Sure thing, _ma’am_.” MacCready sighs loudly, an obvious lilt of sarcastic zeal in his tone, before he trudges over to her liquor cabinet to retrieve a tall bottle of vodka and a glass. “How do you want it?”

“Filthy.” Nora turns her eyes up at Danse as the first cloud of smoke curls from her nostrils, enjoying the way his cheeks redden. She relishes the novelty of making a man as handsome and physically imposing as Danse blush at the most obvious double entendre. 

Danse clears his throat as Nora releases his hand from her grip. He flips his lighter closed with a pleasant metal click and tucks it back into his coat pocket before walking around the couch to sit in one of the arm chairs opposite to Nora. “How was your journey?”

Nora hums in thought at the question, pausing to smile gratefully up at MacCready when he hands her the martini. She takes a sip, her eyes rolling back into her head and a purr rumbling in her throat at the taste. RJ was rather skilled at making cocktails, and this ‘filthy martini’ was one of Nora’s favorites—vodka, a little bit of tato juice, and a dash of irradiated water for a little kick. It wasn’t quite what she was used to, but when there is a criminal lack of green olives post-war she had to take what she could get. It was quite good, actually—more like a Bloody Mary than not but she couldn’t complain. 

“The journey was long but mostly uneventful.” She says finally, making room for MacCready to sit beside her on the couch. She rests her booted feet on the coffee table in front of her, sinking back into the cushions and closing her eyes as smoke floats silently from her parted lips. 

“Mostly?” Danse frowns, the expression a habit of his when he turns to queries.

“We were intercepted in Concord,” Nora explains, taking a drag and another burning sip of her drink before lifting her eyes to hold Danse’s questioning stare. “Sully Mathis sent a greeting party. They were unarmed, before you ask, and they only wanted to pass along a message.”

“That’s ballsy.” MacCready says with a humorless laugh, lighting up his own cigarette and then using his lighter to open up a bottle of Gwinnett pale ale. 

“No, it is absolutely unacceptable.” Danse grumbles, breaking his eye contact with Nora to stare angrily out the window. “They are growing too bold—their presence there is ludicrous to begin with.”

“That sounds suspiciously like insubordination, Captain.” Nora’s voice raises a touch—not by much, but just enough to shift the energy in the room. MacCready’s brow raises but he is wise enough to stay quiet, instead choosing to take a pointedly long swig of his beer. Danse’s head snaps back to meet Nora’s gaze, his spine straightening like a rod instantaneously. “Or did you forget momentarily that it was, in fact, _my_ decision that has kept Mathis in the quarry?”

“I apologize, General—I wasn’t thinking.” Danse doesn’t scramble, he is too professional—and perhaps too proud—for that. It’s a wonder just how gracefully he had handled his change in position from her superior to essentially being her third in command—or perhaps fourth, if Nora counted Shaw. But he did it quite flawlessly, never showing disrespect, and he even seemed to thrive under her lead. They would always be friends first in her eyes, but Danse flourishes on order and rank—and so he gets no special treatment, as he has requested on numerous occasions. “I meant no disrespect, I am merely concerned about their presence.”

“Ah, I’m a mean old bitch, aren’t I?” Nora sighs and waves her hand dismissively. “Pay no attention to my sourness, please. It’s purely based on exhaustion, I assure you.”

“Understood, ma’am, of course.” Danse’s eyes soften in unspoken concern despite his unemotional response. “Rough roads?”

“No.” Nora trails off in a noncommittal sort of way, tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger. “It’s this summer rain, mostly. And I feel like I’ve had a three day long hangover—which is probably _exactly_ what’s wrong with me.”

MacCready scoffs, eyeing her drink pointedly when Nora looks over at him with a narrowed expression. “You drink too much.”

“And shit, you _talk_ too much, _kid_.” She fires back instantly, flicking her ashes at him. Mac frowns and brushes at the fallout from her cigarette that scatters across his coat.

“What was the message, General? The one passed on by Mathis’ men.” Danse interjects before the two have the chance to spark up an argument, as they are wont to do. 

“I’m not sure yet, though from the whole interaction it seems that Mathis is raring to speak with me. He hadn’t informed his messengers of the message, however, which was enraging, to say the least.” Nora says, crossing her ankles on the coffee table and bouncing her foot. “I am meeting with him tomorrow at 1300 hours. Should be interesting.”

“I’d request attendance, ma’am, if you’d deem it appropriate.” Danse says. She can imagine what he’s really thinking: _please don’t meet with a raider gang leader alone_.

“I do; and it never hurts to have some muscle at my side, in case Mathis gets _fresh_.” Nora nods, pausing to take a sip of her martini. “I’d like a couple others, any suggestions?”

“What about that guy you came in with?” MacCready chuckles. “The one built like a freakin’ yao guai; bigger than ol’ Dansey, easily.”

Danse scowls minutely, his irked reaction to MacCready’s comparison disappearing almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“Oh.” Nora mumbles, worrying her lip with her teeth as she considers this. 

“Ramon Valdez, correct?” Danse says, his expression turning thoughtful as he leans back in his chair. “Specializes in close quarters, if I remember correctly.”

“How do you know that?” Nora frowns, not looking up to meet Danse’s stare. 

“The Colonel and I had a discussion on new recruits nearly three months ago. His name came up for his prowess in combat.” Danse explains, watching the General’s sour expression twitch. “Do you object to his presence?”

“Yes I do. I don’t need a recruit hearing about any potentially confidential information. I don’t need Valdez.” Nora sighs, seemingly unaffected despite the nervous dip in her stomach. “Any other suggestions?”

“Captain Shepherd—her squad just returned from Greygarden last week. I’ve been consulting with her as of late and I value her opinion highly. She’s a model soldier.” Danse says after a moment of contemplation. “It also doesn’t hurt that she’s quite impressive with that power fist of hers.”

“And you think she would be discreet enough to keep the contents of this meeting under wraps?”

“ _Gee_ , I don’t know. People around here only seem to crap when you say so,” MacCready chimes in before Danse can answer, unrelenting in his acidic cheek. “Seems like it’d be nothing for her to keep your dirty little secret safe.”

“My _dirty little secret_?”

“Your _buddy_ , Mathis.” MacCready says, unaffected by her dark glare. “Hey, it’s no big deal, boss. I’m _sure_ its normal for the General to screw the raider king down the block.”

Danse looks like he’s about to burst, his face reddening in a mix of anger and a raging blush. Nora cuts in quickly before the testosterone reaches a boiling point.

“Yeah, it’s normal because _I say_ it’s normal.” Nora smiles just as sharply as MacCready does, her eyes crackling with the playful aggression passing between the two of them. “We actually have a pretty good deal going, dear Sully and I. If he rails me well enough, I take him for a joyride in one of my Vertibirds. A very special treat.”

MacCready’s smile twitches subtly. “Oh, I get it. Is that why I never get a ride?” He tilts his head minutely, the sass almost overwhelming. MacCready’s eyes continue to sparkle at her over the neck of his beer despite his deadpan expression.

“That’s _precisely_ why, Robert.”

Danse, unable to take any more, clears his throat loudly and awkwardly. “General, can we get back to the topic of discussion? Please?”

“Apt fucking suggestion.” Nora grumbles, tossing back the rest of her drink and hissing out a pleased sigh at the warm spread in her chest. “Now, who wants to go first? Raise your hand.”

The two men meet eyes momentarily, a quiet question of who will deliver their news first, before MacCready shrugs—unbothered and radiating an insolent sort of boredom. 

“My news is his news, I guess.”

Nora frowns, squinting on a drag from her cigarette. “What happened to the _private business_ you were keen on a few minutes ago?”

“It can wait until he’s gone.” Mac replies with a nod in Danse’s direction. “Erm—besides, _most_ of it is related to the whole… Mutie thing.”

“Fantastic.” Nora sighs blandly, earning a sidelong glare from MacCready, before she motions with a tired wave of her hand for Danse to begin. “Fill me in, Captain.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Danse nods, straightening up a little under her attention. “Shortly after you left—nearly three days to be exact—I was patrolling Concord with my squad after a report I received from the Red Rocket outpost. Supposedly a Mutant Hound was spotted wandering around some of the abandoned houses below.” Danse begins, his eyes unwavering from Nora’s hard, focused stare. “In our search we came across a group of approximately five Super Mutants exiting Concord and heading to the east.”

“Mm, towards the quarry maybe…” Nora mumbles.

“That’s what I thought.” Mac offers before downing a swig of beer.

Danse’s frown deepens as he thinks this over, his eyes thinning and glancing off to the side in thought as Nora drags absently off her cigarette. “The whole situation seemed… _odd_. It didn’t feel like an evaluation of potential territory. It seemed more so like they were passing through. I couldn’t say either way for sure, ma’am. I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize, Danse. Mutants give me a fucking headache, there is no use trying to rationalize their activities.” She sighs, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “You didn’t attack them, I assume?”

“No, I deemed it unwise given the lack of the appropriate armaments within my squad at the time.” He sighs, jaw clenched in obvious frustration.

“What do you mean?” Her brow furrows and Danse looks up.

“There were three Suiciders in the group.” 

“ _Jesus_.” Nora’s eyes widen and Danse nods. “That’s highly fucking concerning.”

“Affirmative.” Danse grumbles, rubbing the palms of his hands together anxiously.

Nora blinks as she processes this new information, absently tapping the ashes from her cigarette before clearing her suddenly dry throat. “Well I’m glad you didn’t engage—you did well.”

“Thank you, General. Though, I’m afraid that’s not all.”

“Of course it isn’t.” Nora rolls her eyes and waves her hand for him to continue.

“We haven’t seen any more of the Super Mutants since then.” Danse meets her eyes when they narrow in irritation. “Some are saying it’s a blessing, that perhaps the Mutants have moved on—but your encounter with those raiders makes me uncertain.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Perhaps Mathis is feeling the Super Mutant presence as well.” Danse says.

“Or maybe _someone_ wiped them out already.” MacCready interjects, raising his eyebrows at Danse pointedly when the Captain sighs. “Which brings me to _my_ part in this whole thing.”

“Alright then, spit it out, kid.” Nora groans as she forces herself up from the couch, anchoring her hands on her back and arching backwards to send a rolling crack up and down her spine. “I need another drink.”

MacCready gets to his feet quickly and blocks Nora from making her way over to her bar. He snatches her empty glass from her hands, giving her a once over of distaste before nodding to the couch. “I’ll make it—you’d do it wrong, anyway. Sit down, old lady.”

Nora narrows her eyes at MacCready’s back as he makes his way over to the bar, a small smile tickling at her lips as she collapses back into the cushions. RJ had his own _special_ way of showing affection, even if it tasted suspiciously like vinegar on the back of her tongue. God forbid he simply admit that he didn’t want her to have to get up and make her own drink. _Shit_. 

“So. A couple’a days after soldier boy here saw the Mutants strolling through Concord, Sanctuary logged in a visitor coming in from the west.” MacCready says, voice raised slightly to be heard behind him as he pours a couple glugs of vodka into a shaker. Nora watches him go through the motions of making the cocktail as she snubs out her cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of her. “Well, a visitor plus one robot dog.”

“A robot dog?” Nora’s subsequent snort of disbelieving laughter is muffled by the new cigarette she clamps in her lips. Danse is quick to light her up, earning an affectionate smile from his General for his efforts. “Sounds like a character.”

“She’s… something.” Danse mumbles almost under his breath, the hard line of his jaw clenching in obvious distaste.

“Who is this visitor, then?” Nora asks, looking up at MacCready’s stiff expression once he crosses the room with her new drink.

“I know of her, but I don’t know her name. Not for sure, anyway.” MacCready replies, removing his hat for a moment to run his fingers through his messy hair. “Back when I was a kid in the Capital Wasteland she… well, let’s just say she _ran things_. She was in control of the clean water supply, not to mention she was buddied up real nice and close with the Brotherhood of Steel in the area.”

Nora glances discreetly to Danse upon the mention of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood chapter, though she is unable to meet his eyes. He’s looking intently at MacCready, his brow drawn in concentration.

“Oh?” Nora hums, sipping at her cocktail.

“Yeah—she was, uh, pretty ruthless.” MacCready looks faraway, as if lost in another time, before he shakes his head and blinks hard. “Anyway, after a few years of cleaning up the area of whatever, or _whoever_ , she didn’t like, suddenly this chick just disappears. Poof, nobody could find a trace of her.”

“And you think that woman is now in the Commonwealth? Here in Sanctuary?” Nora frowns, tucking her legs underneath her and turning to face MacCready on the couch. “How can you be sure?”

“I’m not, I guess. I don’t know.” MacCready grumbles, tapping a finger irritably against his beer bottle. He glances up at Danse, seeming to think over something for a moment, before he sighs heavily. “I met her once, back in Little Lamplight. I—… Well, I didn’t like her. I was relieved when she disappeared from the Wasteland, she was a freaking tyrant. A nutcase.” Mac pauses, tonguing the inside of his cheek absently before shrugging and taking a long swig of his beer. “I figured she was dead after she disappeared. Until a few years ago, that is.”

Nora, engrossed in the story, sips distractedly at her drink and stares at MacCready.

“Well, _okay_ , I only heard rumors. _But_ ,” MacCready holds his hand up, as if to prematurely absolve himself of any deception in his story. “I heard that she made her way out west and got herself involved in that big dust up with the NCR.”

Danse scoffs at that, looking away from MacCready to stare angrily out the window. “That’s outrageous.”

“I didn’t say it was true, okay?” MacCready snaps, scowling at Danse. “That’s just what I’ve heard. And you know what? I wouldn’t be surprised if it _was_ her. _I’ve_ seen her. I’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

“Wait, wait—hold on. The NCR. I’ve heard of them.” Nora interjects, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to search her memory. “Where have I heard of them before… Shit.”

“I don’t know, _anywhere_?” MacCready snorts, squinting as he lines up his shot before tossing his empty beer bottle across the room and into her garbage can. It shatters noisily, making Nora flinch. 

“Who are they?” 

“The New California Republic.” Danse answers helpfully. “They are a significant military force in the west—,”

“ _Used_ to be a significant military force.” MacCready shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “Caesar’s Legion and their infamous _Queen_ practically wiped them off the map in the west. It was a bloodbath, if stories are correct.”

“This is all going over my fucking head.” Nora grumbles, looking down at her smoldering cigarette and wincing as she feels a twinge of a headache begin to blossom behind her eyes. “What is Caesar’s Legion?”

“An army of slaves, supposedly.” MacCready says.

“Jesus.” Nora blinks, feeling a bit lost (not for the first time) in this new world. How did this all develop? The _New_ California Republic? How bizarre it all felt. “So… Mac, _you_ think this woman from the Capital Wasteland fled to the west and took up with an army of slaves to fight the NCR before coming back to the East Coast, where she has subsequently wandered into Sanctuary. For… what?”

“When you say it all like that it makes me sound like a moron.” MacCready huffs, letting his head fall back against the couch to look up at the ceiling. “I swear, I’m not crazy. It’s her, it _has_ to be. I can just feel it.” He’s quiet for a moment before he leans his head back up and turns his eyes on Nora. “And she came here asking for _you_.”

“For me?” Nora laughs slightly, cocking her head with a furrowed brow. 

“We are straying extremely off topic.” Danse speaks up, his deep, firm voice drawing their attention on him. “MacCready’s _theories_ on outside politics aside, the point is that he believes that this woman— _whoever_ she is—already eliminated the Super Mutant threat.” 

“And why is that?” Nora asks.

“Because she told us that she did.” MacCready says quickly as Danse is opening his mouth to reply. 

“Well— _yes_. She did. Allegedly.” Danse admits with a sigh, shooting MacCready one last disapproving scowl before meeting Nora’s gaze. “When this woman approached the front gate she asked for: ‘the woman in charge’. When the front guard questioned her need to speak with you, the woman said, ‘I’ve taken care of the Mutants for her. I want my reward.’ This is all according to the soldier posted to the front gates that day, of course.”

“Hm.” Nora hums, her brow drawing thoughtfully as she takes a long drag. “And you don’t have any evidence proving her right _or_ wrong?”

“The evidence is that there are no more muties in the area.” MacCready says, lifting his hips up to reach into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He lights one up. 

Nora watches him for a moment, long enough for MacCready to shrug—as if to say, _what other evidence matters_? She turns to her officer, tilting her head in her observation of his stiff posture and clenched facial expression. “Well? Danse?”

“That… is correct.” Danse admits, grudgingly, and stares down at his hands. “I’ve had scouts out every day, scouring the area for any signs of camps or nests. The scouts have been unsuccessful.”

“But you don’t seem satisfied.”

“No, ma’am.” Danse shakes his head. “I met her, of course. I attempted to speak with her on your behalf, in order to confirm her work before doling out any rewards.”

“And?” Nora presses casually, letting the acrid smoke snake out of her nostrils as she stares steadily at Danse—despite his discomfort.

“She is a bizarre woman.” Danse says finally, after seemingly at a loss for words. “She wouldn’t speak with me; she insisted that it must be you.”

“You don’t believe her.” Nora states rather than questions, for she can read Danse like a book. Always could. He was such an unerringly honest man; it was one of the more beautiful things about him. 

“I’m not sure.” He replies. “I don’t trust her, of that I’m certain.”

“With good reason.” MacCready says under his breath, tapping his ashes off. “I don’t trust her either, but I would bet good money that she took out those mutants. Without a doubt.”

“Where is she now?” Nora questions, looking between the two of them.

“I believe she is staying at The Kaboose, ma’am.” Danse answers. The Kaboose is one of the lodgings in Sanctuary—a hotel made out of a several old train cars, stacked on top of one another with the help of a few Vertibirds. It was one of the more cutesy places to crash in Sanctuary, and certainly one of the more popular ones. 

Nora exhales after a moment of quiet, staring out the window where she could see one of the Kaboose’s train cars against the intense light of the sun. She squints against the light and twitches at the prickling feeling she feels traveling up the back of her neck. 

“I suppose I’ll have to meet her then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3 :)


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